


Smile For the Camera

by Viretta91



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acting like everything is fine, Canon Typical Violence, Comic book shenanigans, F/M, Gets more violent as it goes along, I have been wanting to write this forever, I mean honestly can't you chill for like 5 seconds buddy, Interviews, No spoilers but like stuff is gonna go down, Parker Luck, Pepper being a BAMF, Peter being the chaotic gen Z that we deserve, Peter is trying his best, Poor Peter is having a really crazy summer, Rewriting the Accords, Sassy, Steve is sorry, Team Bonding, Thaddeus Ross acting like an actual adult, Thanos can shove it, The Avengers try to be a family again, This is like what happens if Thanos never attacked Thor's ship, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony is fed up, media
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2020-09-06 23:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viretta91/pseuds/Viretta91
Summary: Peter Parker was looking forward to summer vacation at the Avengers Compound. Then, after an apocalypse on Asgard, the Avengers actually show up. Juggling his secret identity, complicated team relationships, and trying to keep Mr. Stark from going crazy all while Pepper orchestrates an Avengers media blitz isn't easy. But then again, nothing good ever is. All he has to do is last until Tony and Pepper's wedding when May gets back from California. He can do this.





	1. The Band's Back Together Again

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write this forever! I hope you enjoy, please leave any thoughts or comments down below. Thank you!
> 
> Side note: I do not own any aspect of the MCU, I just love these characters and this universe

When Aunt May had told Peter that he would be staying with Mr. Stark all summer in the Avengers compound, it had seemed too good to be true. His aunt had gotten into some awesome nursing boot camp program in California, so instead of just picking up extra volunteer shifts at the hospital, she would be able to have an official position. 

And _Tony Stark_ had offered to let him stay at the Avengers compound for three months. Sometimes Peter pinched himself just to see if he was dreaming. Sometimes, on late nights in the lab with the hum of Dum-E and arc reactors all around them, picking apart old gadgets- he really thought he was going to wake up, no Spider-Man or Tony or any of it. A whole summer with Mr. Stark and Miss Potts, helping them prep for their upcoming wedding in August and web-slinging on the weekends. 

Too good to be true. 

“Peter...we’re going to be getting some roommates,” Mr. Stark said on the second week. Peter looked up from the lasagna he was stuffing down- one of the few things Tony could actually make. Mr. Stark had his scarred hands folded over each other on the table, eyes downcast and framed by shadows from lack of sleep that made him seem so much older than he was. 

“Yeah? Is it Mr. Rhodes and Happy? I really don’t mind, Mr. Stark, it’s your compound, I’m just a guest you really don’t have to-” 

“It’s not them, Peter,” Mr. Stark pursed his lips, sighing heavily. “It’s not on any media circuits yet, but last night Thor and Bruce arrived on an alien ship and are currently in Wakanda with the Rogue Avengers.” 

“Heh. Wh-what?” Peter’s mind raced. “...Arrived?” 

“From outer space. Yes. Outer space, Peter,” Tony finally looked at him. “And those fucking- _sorry_, damned bastards at the UN have temporarily pardoned the Rogues because it’s an ‘emergency’. Basically, we have to host a group of ragtag criminals and all of Asgard because aliens are my job and I am legally _obligated_ to do whatever the UN tells me. They’re getting on a plane as we speak. _Shit_.” 

Peter didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know much about what went down in what Twitter had dubbed the ‘Civil War’. Just that Mr. Stark had come back with a black eye and scars and he spent days and days in the hospital and on crutches with machines to help him breathe and Pepper to stitch him back together. He knew that Captain America had gone ‘insane’ and tried to kill everyone for no reason and that basically, the world hated most of the Avengers now. Thought they were the villains, and that Tony Stark was the only thing standing between them and destruction. 

Peter had never signed the Accords. He really wanted to, someday, but right now it wasn’t safe. In order to be held accountable for his mistakes, it meant that the UN wouldn’t let him help the little guy, and he would be monitored. His identity would have to be out, his powers would be logged, he would have to give in-depth weekly updates about where he went and who he spoke to. His address, his school, his friends would all be interviewed to vet him. And if he did anything to violate the Accords he would be sent to The Raft.

It was a complete violation of privacy and a constitutional cluster-fuck. But it had been the best choice when it was signed, and the best thing to account for Sokovia. 

“It’ll be ok, Mr. Stark,” Peter said finally. “Really. You like Dr. Banner and Mr. Thor, right? And maybe you can petition to modify the Accords so everyone is happy.” 

“Well, that’s the dream, Kid,” Mr. Stark leaned back in his chair. It was just them in the Avengers compound, and it was honestly a little lonely. The whole building was huge, sleek and polished and fit for the world’s greatest heroes. Decked out with StarkTech, run by Friday, with state of the art training rooms and holographic interfaces everywhere. And only the two of them to enjoy it. “I just don’t think it will be that simple. Nothing ever is with those idiots.” 

“Hey, Mr. Stark, if you get stressed we can always go and hide in the lab.” 

“I am a terrible role model,” Tony cracked a smile. “I might just take you up on that. You finished inhaling your dinner?” 

“I did not _inhale_ my dinner-“ 

“You ate half of it in five seconds, Peter. That’s inhaling. You should add super-eating to your list of freak tricks.” 

“And what would you call enhanced metabolism-“ 

“Boys! Boys, what’s all the shouting about?” Pepper waltzed in, looking perfect and ethereal as always, dressed in white and killer heels. Both of them sprang up from their seats to greet her, Tony pulling out a chair at the table and planting a big sloppy kiss on her cheek. “Honestly.” 

“And how is the magnificent Miss Potts, today?” Mr. Stark asked. Peter had to fight not to laugh at his expression- whenever Tony saw Pepper his eyes lit up and went all soft and gooey. Peter really hoped _he_ didn’t look like that when MJ walked into a room. 

“Oh you know, damage control, press conferences, meetings, phone calls with the U.N. and King T’Challa,” Pepper sighed, kicking off her heels and sinking into her chair. “But I’m here now. And you made _food_! Peter, sweetheart, I hope he didn’t poison you. How was your day?” 

“Awesome! Mr. Stark and I have been testing the limits of my powers,” Peter said. Miss Potts sent Tony a look. 

“You better not be doing what you did to Steve,” she said. Mr. Stark made a face that said he was doing exactly the same thing. “I swear to god, Tony, I am not replacing another window wall because you decided it was necessary to fling around five ton punching bags.” 

“To be fair, it was just one five ton punching bag, and Peter has incredible aim,” Mr. Stark said. 

“The rest were all 10 or higher. I got to 25 before I started getting tired,” Peter smiled at Miss Potts look of horror. 

“It won’t be SI that does me in, it will be you two adrenaline junkie superheros,” she said, then paused. “And how are you doing on the aliens and Rogues front?” 

Mr. Stark’s smile faded and the twinkle sniffed out in his eyes. Peter swallowed thickly. His phone had been buzzing all of dinner, and he had a feeling it was Ned and May trying to contact him about whatever the hell was going on. 

“Did the news break?” Tony asked.

“45 minutes ago, I held a conference. The president had an address. King T’Challa did one, too. It’s all over the news. Trending on Twitter. Also trending- #TeamIronMan,” Pepper rubbed her temple, pouring herself a glass of champagne. “We’ve also had a slight increase in stocks, and there’s word of a march of some kind tomorrow outside the old Avengers tower. I don’t know the specifics.”

“You’re amazing, thank you,” Mr. Stark rested a hand on hers. “It’ll be ok. Steve and I won’t get into a fight with everyone else there.” 

“I’ve got your back, Mr. Stark,” Peter said. And he meant it. He would do anything for Tony, even throw hands with Captain America. 

“We should talk about that,” Mr. Stark said. “I don’t want you too close until I know I can trust them. Let’s just say you’re the son of a family friend and I’m showing you the tech ropes. No Spider-Man until _both_ you and me are comfortable. Capiche?” 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Peter gave a mock salute. “No ‘freak tricks’.” 

“Even if I do want to punch Steve in his perfect face, it’ll honestly be nice to have a full compound again,” Pepper said. “It’s been so quiet. Oh- _crap_. Tony, did I misread that memo or did the U.N. say that we’re hosting an entire country?” 

“Oh no, you read it correctly. We’ve been instructed to make accommodations for 5,000 Asgardians.” 

“_5,000_? We’ll have to set up tents on the lawn- good thing the weather is nice. Will they all eat like Thor? Friday, please tell someone to set up shelters of some kind and prep the catering company, tell them the situation and make sure they know they’ll be receiving a pretty looking bonus,” Pepper said, anxiously fidgeting with her champagne flute.

“Yes, Miss,” Friday said. 

Over the past two weeks Peter had learned that Miss Potts was a woman who never stopped moving. 

“_Only_ 5,000?” Peter asked. Miss Potts looked at him like he had sprouted a second head. “No, I just mean I expected the population to be bigger. Why did they all have to come here in the first place?” 

“I don’t know the details- and if I don’t know them then no one does,” Mr. Stark said. “But the U.N. said something about Asgard being destroyed and some crisis with Thor’s...sister? And somehow Bruce was involved.” 

“Poor Bruce, I hope he’s alright,” Pepper sighed. “Oh, Friday have all of the Avenger’s old rooms prepped. Make sure the whole compound is in order and definitely see if any of the other buildings can be used as shelter for the Asgardians?” 

“Will do, Miss,” Friday chirped.

It had been a shock when Peter first came to the compound to have Friday speak to them from the ceiling. She could do anything, and Mr. Stark had even showed him some of her code. Peter had been blown away. Seeing it made Tony’s role in the Ultron debacle a lot more sympathetic. He had just been trying to create something to help. Something incredible. 

“It’s already 10:30,” Pepper glanced at a slim, fashionable StarkWatch at her wrist. “There really aren’t enough hours in the day. Alright, dear, I’m going to head up and try to wind down, I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be eventful. And Peter, sleep well. Remember-“ 

“Anything I need, just ask,” Peter finished for her. “Thank you, Miss Potts.” 

She smiled as she stood and ruffled his hair a bit. 

“Tony, dear, please don’t keep him up too late. And you need sleep too,” Pepper leaned down to kiss her fiancé. “If you’re not in bed by one, I’m coming down to get you.” 

“Oo, something to look forward to. And relax, you’re like the energizer bunny,” Tony spun her around as she started to walk away and kissed her again. Peter made a face, looking down at his empty plate. Adults were weird. “Dream of me!” 

“In my nightmares!” Pepper called back as the elevator doors closed. Mr. Stark chuckled fondly as he started clearing the plates, and Peter sprang up to help. The longer that Miss Potts was gone the tenser Mr. Stark got, until he almost broke a water glass he was squeezing it so hard and Peter had to pry it out of his hand. 

“Wanna go down to the lab, Mr. Stark?” he asked. Tomorrow was going to be stressful, and hectic, and they probably wouldn’t get a chance to catch their breath. “I have an idea for nano-housing.” 

“Y’know, Pete, that sounds great,” Tony swung an arm around his shoulders and together they spent the night mapping out new suits, nano-housing, and even some new Widow-Bites for Natasha Romanoff. 

***

It wasn’t that Steve was scared to return to the compound. Really, it was a number of things that combined to result in an effect of overall anxiety. One, he was currently on an alien mother-ship surrounded by Asgardians and aliens and bug-people, hurtling through the upper atmosphere. That was pretty stressful in an of itself. But Nat, Clint (who they had picked up from house arrest), Sam, Wanda, and Vision were all with him so that was a small comfort. At least he had his family, even if Bucky had to stay behind. 

Then again, after spending weeks in peaceful, idyllic Wakanda, it had been a shock for Thor and Bruce to arrive with a gruesome war story, Loki in tow and 5,000 refugees at their side. Then the UN had pardoned them, given them orders and here they were, the broken Avengers, heading back to Tony Stark. 

The last time he had seen the man was Siberia. The cold and the ice and the rage flowing through his veins. He would replay those moments in his head every night, every time he blinked, and feel like the weight of it would crush him. Steve had thought, foolishly, that in not telling Tony about his parent’s death he was protecting him from unnecessary pain. Really, he had only been protecting himself. 

It was the biggest regret of his life and it eclipsed everything. That he had been clouded by his need to protect Bucky- to protect his past, that he had lost himself. That he had nearly beat his grieving friend and teammate to death and left him to freeze in Siberia. 

But he would face him- that was the least he could do. 

Steve felt like he was going into battle. 

“Steve. Earth to Captain Emo Phase,” Sam snapped his fingers in front of his face. Steve jolted, sitting up and looking around at his crew. The Avengers- what was left of them- had gathered in a small side room with a round table. They were about 15 minutes out from arrival at the upstate Avengers Compound, and Steve decidedly _ wasn’t _ freaking out. “So you’re not gonna freak out on us when we see Stark?” 

“No. All good from me,” he said. Upon return, Bruce and Thor had had a lot of questions. They had been angry. It had put the whole Accords disagreement into perspective. The Avengers were supposed to be a team- a family- no matter what. “I’m just hoping Tony isn’t...hostile.” 

“Not sure I blame him,” Bruce said. “Don’t get me wrong I think the Accords could use a lot of work, but you all screwed up the situation as bad as you could.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard that before,” Clint crossed his arms. “We know it was an epic shitshow. Tony knows that too. All we can do now is...try again.” 

“That is the hope!” Thor smiled. He was unbelievably chipper for someone who’s entire planet had just been destroyed. “My people will find a new place to live. We will restart the Avengers. Everything will go back to normal.” 

“Tony Stark doesn’t do normal,” Nat said. “Just between him and Steve the drama-meter is through the roof. This will be...interesting.” 

Wanda was quiet on the sidelines, absentmindedly making a few pencils float and dance in front of her while Vision- in a slightly freaky human form- tucked her into him comfortingly. Steve felt bad to have pulled them from their get away in Scotland. They had been happy. 

The fifteen minutes passed much more quickly than Steve would have liked, and soon they were landing on the familiar tarmac strip adjacent to the compound. This sight used to bring him peace, contentedness. Now his heart was just hammering uncomfortably in his chest. 

“Very good,” Thor clapped. “My people are staying on the ship until we go in and talk to Stark. I think Lady Stark is outside to greet us. Loki and Valkyrie are in charge. Let’s go, Avengers!” 

“Loki and Val are in charge?” Bruce asked. “You sure that’s a good idea, big-guy?” 

“Yes, why would it not be?” 

“...Nevermind.” 

Together, they made their way off of the ship and back into the sunlight. Steve was immediately assaulted by the familiar smell of the nearby beach, the tall trees, freshly cut grass. He could see the compound a little further up the hill, bright and sleek under the blue sky and achingly home. 

And standing on the tarmac, dressed in white white white, was Pepper Potts. Her strawberry blonde hair was long down her back, half pulled back, and she wore big, fancy black sunglasses that did nothing to hide her stern expression. She held an official looking StarkPad and behind her was a tall, hulking, angry man that Steve recognized as Happy Hogan. 

Tony had always kept them away from Pepper. Kept his two lives as separate as possible. Steve and the others had only met her in passing a couple of times, but she was just as intimidating now, if not more. 

“Lady Stark!” Thor ran to greet her and shook her hand. “So lovely to see you!” 

“Not Lady Stark yet, Thor,” she smiled a little. “The wedding is in August. I trust your flight went well?” 

“Oh, yes! Happy to be back on Earth!” 

“I would imagine,” Pepper said. “Bruce! We’ve missed you!” 

The two hugged. Bruce had always been closest to Tony. 

“It’s good to be back!” Bruce grinned. “Thank you so much for agreeing to take us in.” 

“Oh, we didn’t actually have a choice, we’re legally obligated,” Pepper chuckled, turning her focus to the rest of them. The Rogues. “Ah. Welcome back. Well, no use standing around, let’s head inside.” 

It was icy, to say the least. It did nothing to quell Steve’s growing nerves. Even Nat by his side, throwing him reassuring glances couldn’t help. 

They started up the winding shell-lined path that led up to the main building. Steve remembered arriving here after missions when they had to take the larger planes. All of them tired and laughing and dehydrated. That seemed so far away now. 

“So, we have a lot to discuss,” Pepper said as they walked. “The Accords were a disaster, as I’m sure you’re aware, and unfortunately it’s my job to help clean up your mess. We need to talk optics. I already have a plan and I’m scheduling talk-shows, interviews, the works. Tony is waiting in the boardroom. I’m sorry to say- well, I’m actually not sorry at all- but people hate you. Despise you. You need to gain back their trust.” 

Steve read that subtext loud and clear. 

“Pepper-” he started.

“And you, Mr. Rogers,” she gave a dry chuckle. The others were silent but the tension in the air was so thick Steve could feel it. They were just a few steps in front of the doors when she spun around to face him. “Screw you. You so much as breathe in Tony’s direction and I’ll sue your ass back into the 40’s. And it’s Miss Potts. Okay? Okay. Glad we’re on the same page. Let’s get inside.” 

“Yes, Ma’am,” Steve said quietly. He could feel it in Sam’s downward gaze and Clint’s fidgeting and the little sigh Nat tried to hide. They were all realizing just how hard this was going to be. 

Miss Potts and Happy led them through the compound, past familiar hallways that Steve could’ve mapped with his eyes closed. Thor was regaling Pepper with the tales of his travels. His father’s death, finding out about his evil sister, Sakaar, the battle to end all battles- Ragnarok. 

Then, all too soon, they came to a set of translucent glass doors which opened as they approached. 

“Alright, Happy, will you wait outside?” Pepper asked. 

“Sure thing, Pep,” he said, ushering them all inside. “Good luck.” 

And then Steve was being filed into a seat, framed by Sam and Natasha. Directly across from Tony Stark. 

He was dressed impeccably as always, with a pair of high-tech glasses resting on his nose, eyes stormy and posture tense. He stood to pull out a chair for Pepper, who tucked her sunglasses into her suit jacket and gave him a tight little smile. 

“Point Break, Brucey!” Tony said, giving them both pats on the back and a camera-worthy grin. It was all a show, Steve knew him well enough to know that. He took his seat. “Well. The band’s back together again. And you’ve all met my lovely fiancé. Pepper?” 

“Yes, as I said this is an optics meeting,” Miss Potts said, clicking buttons on her StarkPad. The reunion was all so cold and impersonal. Steve’s heart couldn’t seem to quiet down either. “We’re here to discuss the future of the Avengers. The UN has said they will consider modifying the Accords if we write the full proposal. Secretary Ross doesn’t seem to have a problem with that either. All they want are parameters.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Steve said. The look Tony finally gave him was so disconnected. As if they were strangers. “I agree. We should be held accountable, but not at the cost of our safety and privacy.” 

“I’m glad,” Pepper said. “Now, since you have to stay here we’ll have plenty of time to brainstorm about what exactly we want the Accords to be. We’re hoping to get the new plans approved by the end of the summer. Also be the end of the summer- we will have hopefully completed an entire optics redo. You all need to seem accessible, like real people, not figureheads. That means social media. Talk shows. Q & A’s. Not just your standard press conference. And Thor, SI will also be helping you find a country to host your people. Norway seems open to the idea. Also, you yourselves need to be a team again. I’ve come up with a schedule which will hopefully maximize ‘team bonding’, and the UN has approved some under the radar Hydra facility take-downs. Does that sound good to everyone?” 

“Sounds lovely, Lady Stark!” Thor said. 

“What kind of ‘interviews’ and talk shows?” Natasha asked, leaning back in her seat. 

“So far I’ve scheduled the 73 question interview with Vogue,” Pepper’s eyes scanned her screen. “Wired autocomplete interview. Ellen, Jimmy Fallon. And you all need to get- and use- Instagram, Twitter, Youtube. Anything to let the people see you’re all trustworthy and getting along.” 

“I love lying through my teeth,” Tony said wryly. He tapped the side of his glasses so they turned dark, obscuring his eyes. “Well. Now that that’s settled I have a very important lunch date. And if any of you see a sixteen-year-old around the compound he’s my guest please don’t scare him. Brucey, come to the lab later!” 

And with that Tony waltzed out, not a care in the world. Steve had seen it though. How hard he had been trying not to scream. 

This was going to take a while. The trust. 

If the Avengers were his family, then he would do anything to fix this rift. Steve Rogers had always been a soldier. 

This was his fault. 

This was his fight.


	2. We Need a Little Extra Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You are funny, Peter Parker. I am Wanda Maximoff,” she said. “You must be the ‘guest’ Stark told us about. But he did not tell us that you are enhanced?” 
> 
> OR
> 
> Peter tries to make sense of these new developments at the Avengers compound and runs into a few familiar faces.

Peter was working on his web formula when Mr. Stark burst into the lab, practically hyperventilating. He was in a three-piece suit and his Edith glasses, skin pale and eyes haunted. He had just come back from his meeting with the Rogues. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter sprang up from his stool to help his mentor sit. “How did it- how did it go, sir? Are you ok?” 

“Mmhm. Mmhm. I’m good. I’m great. I’m fabulous,” he said. Peter didn’t miss his shaking hands. “All good here. Why wouldn’t it be.” 

“...I’m gonna get you some coffee you look freaked out,” Peter walked over to the machine and slid in a pod of Mr. Stark’s black roast. Strongest on the market. Peter thought the stuff was disgusting. 

“I’m not freaking out,” Mr. Stark grabbed one of his gauntlets and started to angrily tinker with the explosive mechanisms. That was concerning. “I’m just...processing. There’s a lot on my mind, Kid. 5,000 Asgardians are on my lawn right now! And-and Loki- Loki is on my property!” 

“I thought he got like banished from Earth for all eternity for crimes against humanity?” Peter drummed his fingers against the counter as the coffee brewed. Distantly, he heard footsteps bustling about the compound. It must have been the newly arrived Avengers but it was strange to hear after so much silence. 

“He did. Oh, he did. But apparently, the U.N. can do whatever they want like just pardon war criminals and- and assholes. They pardoned so many assholes for no...for no good reason. God, I wish Rhodey wasn’t in D.C.”

Peter sat and slid Tony his coffee, which was steaming and way too hot. Mr. Stark had slowed down, solemnly staring into the cup, stress evident in the lines of his face, and the downward tug at the corners of his mouth. 

“...Mr. Stark?” 

“I’ll be fine, Pete,” he said it softly and slowly, voice gruff. “I always am. Just remembering how many gray hairs those idiots downstairs cause.” 

“They’re really back, then?” Peter asked. It hadn’t seemed real, and in a way still didn’t. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that _ the Avengers _ were in the same building as he was. 

“They’re back,” Tony took a long swig of his drink, smacking his lips. “I’m sorry if I’m stressing you out. This is just….” 

“An epic shitshow?” Peter supplied. 

“I shouldn’t be allowed around children,” Mr. Stark said. “Yes. Couldn’t have said it better, young grasshopper.” 

Peter’s phone buzzed just as Tony’s StarkPad lit up. 

“Pepper sent us something,” he said, opening up the email he had just received. 

_From: Pepper Potts_  
_To: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Peter Parker_

_ Dear All,_

_I hope you are settling back into the compound comfortably. In our meeting, I gave you an idea of the busy schedule we will have over the next couple of months. I would like to make it clear, if it was not already, that all team activities are mandatory. We have a lot of work to do before you can be the Avengers again. Please make note that all recipients of this email will be having team dinners together. I have asked our chefs to prep a little bit of everything, so don’t worry about going hungry!_

_I know that you all need to learn to be comfortable with each other again, so I have postponed starting interviews until next week. In the meantime, you will be diving back into your old training schedules. That means that tomorrow I will be overseeing your game of capture the flag from 1:00-3:00 (Please come fed)!_

_Thor and I will be spending most of our time in meetings, trying to resolve the Asgardian conflict so they can move to a more permanent home. But please, if you need anything just ask me, Tony, or FRIDAY._

_Best_

_Pepper Potts_  
_CEO of Stark Industries_  
_The Avengers Babysitter_

“Uhh, Mr. Stark, isn’t this a little overboard?” Peter asked. 

Tony was hunched over his screen, elbows on the table and palms bracing his forehead. He looked like he was going to be sick. 

“Yes. But we’re so dysfunctional we need a little extra help. I trust Pepper,” he said. “And when she gets worked up like this there’s no stopping her...But how are you feeling, Pete?” 

How was he feeling? Well, he was living in the Avengers compound all summer and currently in Tony Stark’s personal lab, messing around with his web formula. By all means, he should have been living the dream. But Peter really didn’t like to see Mr. Stark so on edge. Part of him just wanted it to go back to normal, for it to just be them and Pepper and lazy days by the pool or throwing around punching bags. Now, he was going to have to meet all of the Avengers. 

And that...was absolutely terrifying. 

“I’m good, Mr. Stark. A little thirsty,” Peter stood, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna get a new box of La Croix.” 

Peter tore through the things like wildfire. The lab had a small mini-fridge but it was never enough. 

“Have fun, Peter Man!” Tony called as Peter got in the elevator. Ok so he had said ‘peter-man’ instead of ‘spider-man’ _one time_. 

“Rec floor, please, Fri,” Peter said, opening up his phone. Ned and May had been texting him non-stop. May was freaking out, but Peter kept assuring her that no, she did _not_ have to come back from California early to get him. He could handle himself. 

The doors opened and Peter strolled out of the elevator onto the central community floor. It was mostly used as a hang-out space, where they all ate dinner, and Peter guessed it would be filled up soon. It was weird to see all the lights on, bright against the dark, polished walls. He could hear the Avengers in their rooms, spread out across the corners of the floor, getting settled. Each had suites. Peter was next to Vision- and Scarlet Witch apparently- and after two weeks of not having roommates it was going to be strange. At least he knew that Pepper and Tony were only a floor above and Friday was there to help if anything got out of hand. 

Not wanting to stay too long for fear of running into someone, Peter hurried over to the kitchen area, lifted two boxes of Pamplemousse La Croix up like they were nothing, and spun around, ready to dash back- 

“Who are you?” Scarlet Witch was leaning against a red armchair, hand on her hip. Peter, like the functional human he was, dropped both boxes of his drink. How the hell had he not heard her coming? 

Only the boxes didn’t fall, just hovered in mid-air, surrounded by red light. At least...one of them did. The other one was stuck to his hand. Like spider stuck. Peter yelped and it clattered to the ground, spilling cans and soda everywhere. 

“H-hi I’m Peter Parker please don’t kill me,” he rambled out, putting his hands up just for good measure. He had seen some pictures of Scarlet Witch before but wow, she was terrifying in person, even though she didn’t look much older than he was. Her eyes were a dark shade of brown that looked red when the light caught them, and she looked like she hadn’t smiled in years. 

And then she started to laugh. 

“You are funny, Peter Parker. I am Wanda Maximoff,” she said. “You must be the ‘guest’ Stark told us about. But he did not tell us that you are enhanced?” 

So apparently she hadn’t missed the whole sticky hands thing. Parker luck strikes again. Tony was going to kill him. 

“Oh, well, you’re really not supposed to know,” Peter said, then added as an afterthought, “Miss Maximoff.” 

“A secret then?” she quirked a brow. “ And please, it’s Wanda. I’m too young to be a ‘miss’.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, Wanda, how old are you?” Peter asked. Yes, he was definitely changing the subject, but honestly, he had always thought she was an adult. Seeing her in person, he wondered how she had ever gotten permission to join the Avengers. 

“I’m nineteen. Almost twenty.” Wanda crossed her arms and walked closer until she was leaning against the counter. That was all that was standing between Peter and Scarlet Witch- a slab of dark marble. “I see strange things in you, Peter Parker. You are like an open book. You must learn how to hide your thoughts.” 

“Wait you can _actually_ read minds?” Peter squawked, backing up. As if that would help him. “I thought that was…”

“A myth?” she smiled, red light dancing around her fingers. “Oh no, it’s very real. I believe you and I are not dissimilar, Little Spider. The result of experiments and mutations.” 

Peter had met a total of one Avenger and he was already screwing it up. In less than two minutes Scarlet Witch had found out his secret identity and read his mind and Peter was _so_ grounded. 

“Y-yeah,” Peter said, swallowing thickly. “How did you sneak up on me before?” 

“I sensed you were powerful. I merely quieted my footsteps,” she said. “But you are not a danger. Like I said- an open book. I will have to work on that with you. I will keep your secret, Peter Parker.” 

“Really? Oh, thank you so much, Wanda, that’s awesome,” he said, sagging with relief. For some reason Wanda’s terrifyingness made Peter believe that she wouldn’t go blabbing all of his secrets. She was stoic, and something about that was trustworthy. 

“I’ll tell _you_ a secret, too,” she leaned closer. “The others are dumb as rock. But look out for Natasha. She can read anyone.” 

“Noted.” 

“Come, you should look outside,” Wanda beckoned. The forgotten La Croix boxes were lifted up by red light and placed on the counter. Against his better judgment, Peter followed her into a glass side hallway facing the front lawn. “Isn’t it amazing?” 

Oh, wow. 

5,000 Asgardians were no joke. Peter could just make out the SI workers in bright blue (any staff that had been willing) leading the Asgardians to high-tech tents, into side buildings, and yelling over the crowd with megaphones. The foreigners were dressed in long cloaks, layers of colored fabric, gold chest plating and elaborate hairstyles. Some of them were glowing a little- some of them were gods. And if Peter wasn’t seeing things, then that was Loki over there, gesturing wildly at one of Pepper’s assistants. 

“It’s incredible,” Peter said. “I mean I’ve got to talk to them at some point they have actual _magic_ and come from another planet. I bet their DNA is completely different. Like- what scientifically makes them immortal? There has to be a reason for it, right?”

“Sorry, Little Spider, you lost me,” Wanda said. “You are not just enhanced, then? You sound like Stark.” 

“Oh yeah, I’m technically his intern,” Peter said. “Actually, on that note, I should get back. He’ll be worried.” 

“Mm. It was nice speaking with you, Little Spider,” Wanda smiled. “Later, I will help you close your mind. Do not forget.” 

“Will do, Wanda!” Peter practically sprinted back across the living area and into the elevator. As soon as the doors closed he leaned back against the cold metal, releasing his breath and screwing his eyes shut. “Oh, god, Friday, that was terrible.” 

“Yes, Peter. It was,” she said happily. Peter groaned. “Would you like to go to the lab?”

“Yeah, just go extra slow I need to think of a way to say what happened where Mr. Stark won’t murder me.” 

“I doubt Boss would take such drastic measures.” 

Peter wasn’t so sure. 

“...Do you know what dinner plans are, Fri?” 

“Yes, your metabolism does seem to be dipping,” she said. “Miss has scheduled dinner for 6:30. I suggest you take something from Boss’s snack stash.” 

“Heh. Nah, he guards that stuff like a dragon, I’d never get any.” 

Peter opened his phone, where he had somehow acquired 25 messages from Ned in the last ten minutes. 

**GuyInTheChair**

_Peter omg its all on the news wtf is happening_

_IT SAYS LOKI IS THERE???_

_r u ok????_

_ peter pls im freaking out _

**PeterMan**

_Ned I’m fine! It’s all good!_

_The Avengers are here but I’ve only seen Wanda _

**GuyInTheChair**

_”only”_

_that’s scarlet witch!_

_what is your life??_

**PeterMan**

_I’ll tell u when I know!_

_gtg elevator stopped_

**GuyInTheChair**

_kk, keep me posted!_

Peter stepped out as the elevator doors slid open and hopped into the lab. 

“Hey, Mr. Stark! I really need to talk to you, you're not gonna believe what just-”

Peter stopped short when he turned the corner. Because sitting there at a long white table next to Mr. Stark, was Dr. Bruce Banner. _The_ Dr. Bruce Banner. 

“Here he is!” Mr. Stark stood, swinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “Bruce, this is Peter, one of the few people I can actually tolerate. Pete, this is Bruce, back from space! Where’s the La Croix?”

“Nice to meet you, Peter,” _the_ Bruce Banner shook his hand. “Tony’s told me a lot of good things.” 

“Oh really?” Peter asked, brushing off Mr. Stark’s question. His voice cracked. His palms were so sweaty, god why was he like this. What do you say to your hero? What could he say to the man he had studied in science classes his whole life, who he had done presentations on and poured over books about. Peter had read all of his research on gamma radiation. Next to Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner was someone he had looked up to his entire life. “You’re Bruce Banner.” 

“Astute observation, Kid,” Tony patted him on the back. Peter felt his cheeks heat. 

“I-I mean you’re Dr. Bruce Banner. I’ve read all of your work on gamma radiation and it’s just _incredible_, sir.” 

Dr. Banner smiled, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. 

“Really? I didn’t know anyone read that. Thought you kids were more interested in the green terror,” he said. 

“I mean yeah the Hulk is a fascinating scientific anomaly but your studies on mutations are _groundbreaking_. So many enhanced people have started to come out of the woodworks and they all look at your studies to know what’s going on to their bodies. You-you know you’re up for a Nobel prize, sir?” 

“I am?!” Dr. Banner looked to Mr. Stark. “Tony why the hell didn’t anyone tell me?! That’s amazing!” 

“Kinda got lost in the chaos,” Tony shrugged, going to sit down and beckoning for them to do the same. “Congratulations, you deserve it. And Bruce, Peter here is officially part of the science bros.” 

“What’s that?” Peter asked. 

“It’s our elite club of smart people,” Mr. Stark smiled. “Well, scientifically smart people. Otherwise, Natasha would be skulking in the corner. How are you and Nat, by the way?” 

Dr. Banner made a face. 

“It’s really awkward,” he said. “She kissed me back then and then I just disappeared. Not cool.” 

“She kissed you?” Mr. Stark smirked. “Well played, Banner. You just gotta feel it out, don’t rush anything.” 

So yeah, Peter Parker was in on an Avengers tea-sesh that was pretty cool. He was definitely calm. 

The Avengers had always been closed off to the rest of the world. In Peter’s opinion, that was one of the biggest reasons why The Accords had been demanded. Here were these amazing superheroes who the world practically worshipped but knew nothing about. These heroes who swooped in, saved the day, left behind hundreds of casualties and went back to their high-rise penthouse at the end of the day. Pepper had the right idea getting them to open up. 

When Peter tuned back in, he saw that Mr. Stark had taken out his nanotech. Dr. Banner was wide-eyed and gaping, looking just like Peter had when he had seen it for the first time. He watched in wonder as the nano-particles formed into a fully functional Iron Man gauntlet. 

“_Wow_,” Bruce said. “I mean this is-this is just...wow. Have you got it in a full suit yet?” 

“I have,” Mr. Stark nodded, pointing to the nano-housing unit on his chest. “But this is a little impractical. Peter and I have been trying to find a way to fit them in something a bit more inconspicuous. A watch, for example.” 

“Well, in Wakanda, King T’Challa could activate his suit with a necklace, have you thought of using vibranium? It’s a much finer metal. Strongest on earth, too.” 

And so Peter spent the afternoon with his two lifelong heroes, laughing and smiling as they made blueprints for nano-housing jewelry and even an update for Clint Barton’s arrows. 

It was easy for a moment to forget about all the chaos outside that room. To forget about the Avengers upstairs and the Asgardians outside and all the things they had to do. 

“Boss, Miss has asked me to tell you that dinner is ready,” Friday said and broke their happy bubble. 

Mr. Stark’s face fell, posture tense. Even Dr. Banner turned a shade paler. Peter’s heart started to beat faster in his chest. 

This would be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this and I am so excited for what's to come! Get ready for some eventful team bonding and "family" dinners. I hope you enjoyed this and thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment down below <3
> 
> Also, I finally got my Tumblr set up! Go to Viretta91 if you want to chat! ;-)


	3. Didn’t Your Mommy Teach You It’s Not Polite To Stare?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You didn’t tell them what happened in Siberia, did you, Rogers?” 
> 
> OR
> 
> In which the Avengers reunion dinner goes just about as well as Tony was expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so so much fun to write! I'm super excited about all of the things I have planned! This is gonna be a roller coaster, folks ;-D

Tony Stark was having a rotten week. Truly, in the top 5 worst of his life, and that was including all of Afghanistan. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so on edge, so ready to whip out his repulsors and _shoot_. 

Two years. Two years to brew and rage and come up with every reason why he never wanted to speak to the Rogues ever again. Nightmares. Panic attacks. Barely holding together. Barely keeping his anger in check. 

Two years of Pepper, Peter, Rhodey, and Happy. The only family he really needed. Yeah, he felt like he was drowning but at least he had good company. People who he would do anything for, and here was the miracle, they’d do the same for him.

And now, two months before his wedding to the love of his life, the Rogues just decide that it’s the perfect time to crash. Lovely timing, Rogers. 

He hated being like this. He hated when others could see his anxiety, and he was sure that everyone could see it. Poor Peter had to see it, and he was only sixteen, he didn’t need to deal with Tony’s issues. 

Tony Stark, Iron Man, felt more than ever the pressing urge to drop everything and run away. 

“Mr. Stark? Don’t you think Miss Potts will get mad if we don’t go up?” Peter asked, hands fidgeting over their nano-jewelry blueprints. Whenever the Avengers were brought up, the Kid turned back into the nervous wreck he had been after Homecoming. And god, Tony had been so torn up over that whole shit show. He had wanted to prove that he wasn’t a horrible person. It was only after weeks in the lab, working on projects late at night, that Peter had finally started to get comfortable around him. To see that he wasn’t the ‘great Tony Stark’, just a human being who loved _Takis Fuego_ and drank way too much coffee and got into spats with politicians on Twitter. Seeing Peter revert like this only made Tony hate Steve Rogers that much more. 

“Yeah, Kid, let’s head up before Pep throws a fit. You hungry, Brucey?” he asked, standing up and dragging Peter along with him by the arm. Bruce wiped his palms on his jeans as he did the same. 

“I think the nerves are kind of killing the hunger,” he said. 

“Oh, really? And, what do you have to be nervous about, hotshot?” Tony scoffed. Bruce and Thor had missed The Accords disagreement. They had been in _space_ during The Accords disagreement. Really, they couldn’t be more impartial. 

“Don’t forget, Tony, it’s my team too,” Bruce said. Oh, and now Tony felt like an asshole for the fifteenth time today. “I just want everyone to be happy again.” 

Tony wanted to scream that he _was_ happy. That he had had all he needed. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. This dinner was important- that they get out the awkward stuff before training together and acting like one big happy family for the media. That didn’t change the fact that it was going to be hell, though. 

These people had forced their way into his home. These people were eating his food. These people were making Pepper stressed and ruining Peter’s vacation. Tony wanted these people gone. 

He didn’t care who he had to yell at. That idiot Ross, the entire UN, maybe even Steve fucking Rogers. He just wanted those traitors _gone_. 

“Mr. Stark, are you okay? You’re kinda squeezing pretty tight,” Peter said. Tony looked down in horror to see that he was still gripping the kid’s arm in a death-vise. That was gonna bruise. He quickly let go. 

“Pete, I am so s-”

“_Tony_, it’s fine,” Peter smiled feebly, brown eyes wide. 

_Tony_. 

The Kid only called him Tony when he was freaking out. The Kid only called him Tony that one time he had a panic attack last month and Peter had been terrified. Tony had been so embarrassed and the poor kid had only made that funny, nervous smile and helped him through it. If Peter was calling him by his first name now, it meant Tony was not doing nearly a good enough job of hiding his anxiety as he hoped. 

He would do better. 

“Chop-chop, boy-scouts, we have a dinner to attend!” he clapped his hands loudly, making everyone jump. Peter and Bruce were staring at him like he was a wounded animal. “What, do I have something on my face? ” 

“Nah, you’re good, Mr. Stark,” Peter nodded, but Tony didn’t miss the way he tugged on Bruce’s sleeve. “Let’s go, I’m starving.” 

They all huddled into the elevator, and for a moment Tony tried to catch his breath. 

In, and out. 

In, and out. 

In, and- 

Oh, _fuck._

Peter. 

The Rogues and Peter. 

Peter and the Rogues. 

If Tony wasn’t in danger of a heart attack before, he sure as hell was now. 

Innocent Peter Parker and his puppy-dog eyes and his nervous stuttering and goddammit, the kid had really wormed his way into Tony’s heart, hadn’t he? And now, Tony was bringing the kid into what was arguably the most dangerous kitchen on earth. May Parker was going to kill him, and he was going to deserve it. 

All Tony knew was that if any of the Rogues got close to Peter, he was going to lose it. No more nice faces or fake smiles or forced jokes. If Steve Rogers so much as _looked_ at his kid…

The elevator doors slid open, and Tony Stark walked out. The Tony Stark that smiled for the cameras and held charity dinners and spoke at panels. Anyone that knew him- _really_ knew him- knew that this was just as much a facade as Iron Man was. 

Seated around the circular table, looking slightly shell-shocked, were his former teammates. Clint, Sam, and Thor had already broken out the booze, Wanda and Vision were huddled together and whispering, and Natasha and Steve- and what was with that beard- were just...staring at him. And Peter. They were staring at Peter. 

Tony placed himself firmly in front of the boy. 

“Tony, Bruce, finally!” Pepper swooped in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Tony saw it, that she was putting on a show too. He wished she didn’t have to. That they could go back to peaceful evenings, just the three of them. “We were waiting for you. Peter, sweetheart, follow me.”

“Deep breaths,” Bruce, ever the anger manager, whispered as they took their seats with the others. 

Pepper was smart. Tony was next to Bruce, with Peter on his other side, and Pepper on the other side of him. Peter was safe, even if he had turned four shades paler and looked like he was about to pass out. 

They could do this. 

“So _then_,” Thor was gesticulating wildly, beer sloshing everywhere and all over their smorgasbord of food. “I’m standing in the middle of this arena. Aliens booing me down. And _who_ walks out but The Hulk! And I’m like, ‘yes! That’s a friend from work!’ Y'know, I thought it would be fine, I really did- and then he just started _pummeling_ me. And my brother was watching, he was probably laughing his stupid shiny arse off.” 

“Bruce, how did you even end up there?” Clint asked, shoveling greasy noodles into his mouth. Tony found that he no longer had much of an appetite. And he could feel Steve and Nat just _staring_ at him. But when he looked, they were just staring at Peter. 

“Didn’t your mommy teach you it’s not polite to stare?” Tony snapped, interrupting the conversation and any semblance of peace they had. “I mean honestly, Rogers, I thought you were the all-American golden boy. Thought manners came with that.”

Steve blinked, jaw-clenched, then straightened in his seat. He was trying, Tony could see that, but he was going to have to try a hell of a lot harder. 

“Sorry, just waiting for you to introduce us to your guest,” he said finally. Tony hated that voice. He usually only heard it in his nightmares, but here it was right in front of him. Staring him down with those same icy blue eyes. Tony didn’t even think the others knew about Siberia. Not really. Only Pepper and Rhodey knew. 

The others didn’t understand. 

He hadn’t answered, he realized. And everyone was staring at him. And his hands were shaking. 

“I’m Peter. Peter Parker,” Peter said from beside him, not one tremor in his voice, staring down Captain America. Tony had never been prouder of the kid than in that moment. “I’m staying for the summer. Mr. Stark is teaching me about his design process. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Rogers.”

“Don’t be modest, Petey-Pie,” Tony swung an arm around the kid’s shoulders, choosing to look at Peter’s bashful face instead of the others. “Kid’s a genius. IQ as high as me. He’s been making all your new tech.”

It was then that Tony realized he was going to have to give Steve back his shield, but he filed _that_ troubling thought away for later. 

“Since when do you like children, Stark?” Sam asked. The glint of his eyes was hard. He could hold a grudge as well as Tony. 

“He’s sixteen,” Tony said. 

“And he’s our _guest_,” Pepper said, in a tone Tony recognized as ‘shut up, Sam’. “On that note, Peter you haven’t touched your food, have some broccoli.” 

Peter nodded and shot Tony a tight-lipped smile. The poor kid must have been freaking out just as much as he was. 

“Yes, son of Stark, have some beer, you are a growing boy!” Thor reached across Pepper and poured the kid a hefty glass of alcohol. Wanda choked on her drink. 

_Son of Stark_. 

Tony nearly groaned aloud, ‘God, why me?’

“He’s not my-” Tony started. 

“Uh n-no, Mr. Thor, sir,” Peter pushed the glass out of reach. “Thank you, but I’m a minor. And I’m not uh...not a ‘son of Stark’.” 

Peter was bright red at this point, sinking down lower in his chair as if he could slide under the table and disappear. Tony nearly encouraged him- then he could slide under the table and hide too. 

“Nonsense!” Thor laughed. “You look just alike! It is obvious! So, Stark, how did you hide your child from us?” 

“Now, that makes more sense,” Clint leaned back in his seat, studying Peter like he was some fancy art piece and not a human being. “The only reason Stark would care about a child. Because he created them.”

Tony was spluttering, completely at a loss. Next to him Peter and Pepper were both open-mouthed, unsure of how to fix the rapidly snowballing situation. 

“Is that true, Tony?” Steve asked, and he sounded hurt. How dare he. 

“It’s obvious they’re hiding something,” Natasha said. That’s why she had been studying Peter- she had been trying to read him. She had picked up on their nerves over Spider-Man but drastically miscalculated. 

Wanda, the mind-reader, was oddly silent. Vision, who Tony was pretty sure could tell their DNA didn’t match, was just smiling vaguely. 

“Fine,” Pepper said, setting down her wine glass, face stern. “It’s true. Peter is Tony’s son. We recently found out about him. Satisfied?” 

Tony quickly caught his bearings, and was so thankful that Pepper had already caught hers. She was smart. So, so smart, and he was so lucky to have her. Thor, drunk off his rocker, had made the incorrect deduction that Peter was his son. The others, eager to find something to be mad at Tony for, had quickly latched on. Natasha knew they were hiding something because it was _Natasha_. They had two options- go along with it, or spill the real secret. And that wasn’t happening. 

So apparently, Tony had a son. Peter Parker- who looked like he was about to start laughing or crying, Tony couldn’t tell. 

Tony didn’t know how to act like a dad. What was he supposed to do? 

“Well, welcome to the dad-club, Stark,” Clint broke the awkward silence. “Y’know what, I can see it. Congrats, man.” 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Bruce smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. “That’s awesome.”

“Stark, it is an honor to meet your heir! Starkson, I insist, have some celebratory drink!” Thor thrust a glass of whiskey into Peter’s hand. The kid was wide-eyed and looked like he had just had an out-of-body experience, and was slightly shocked to find he was still breathing. 

“I’ll take that for you,” Tony whispered in Peter’s ear. “Just go along with it…_son_.”

Peter bit his lip to keep from laughing and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, turning it into a cough. 

“OhmygodIhateyou,” he breathed out, quiet enough that only Tony could hear. He smiled and ruffled the Kid’s hair. 

“Now that’s settled,” Pepper said, throwing Tony a reassuring smile. “Let’s talk about social media. Because so far Spider-Man is the only hero who’s doing half a decent job at it.” 

“Spider-Man? That guy in the onesie who I beat in Germany?” Sam asked. Peter made a face and took a long sip of his water. 

“Yes, and he hasn’t signed the Accords. And he doesn’t have to. Want to know why?” Pepper leaned forward. “Because the world is in love with him. He’s active on all platforms. His posts are funny. He’s been dubbed ‘the king of Twitter’. There are whole blogs dedicated to figuring out his secret identity. If he was arrested, the people would riot. You all need that kind of sympathy.” 

“That’s smart, Pepper,” Natasha said. “But what would you say about your fiancé’s use of the media?” 

Ok. That was fair. Tony had been known to get into heated debates on Twitter which usually ended in messy lawsuits and politicians yelling at him on C-Span. 

“Yes, Tony, you need to post more...sympathetic things,” she said. “Maybe try instagram? Avengers updates?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Thor laughed, face red from liquor. He looked like some off brand pirate-Santa Claus with his booming laugh and beard and leather eyepatch. 

“I’m a little lost too, Miss Potts,” Steve said. “I never got much into those...UPhones.” 

“IPhones,” about half of the table corrected. Peter was, once again, trying not to laugh. Tony slapped his elbow gently.

“One, you’re all using StarkTech, I refuse to hand you over to Apple. Two, I have an idea,” Tony said. “Peter’s all in on that stuff. Let him coach us.”

“And I’ll help,” Clint said. “What? Don’t look at me like that. I have kids. I know what’s up.” 

“Alright, you two can talk after dinner,” Pepper nodded, the invisible weight on her shoulders a little lighter. “Oh! And Thor, I just wanted to tell you that your people are completely settled and fed. Everything is in order.” 

“Lovely, Lady Stark!” Thor said. “And what of my brother? Has he turned anyone into animals?” 

“No, Loki was...cooperative,” Pepper nodded, hands inching closer to her wine glass. “It was the woman, Valkyrie, who gave us a bit more trouble.” 

“What, she hasn’t already broken into your wine cellar?” Bruce laughed, Thor slapped the table so hard their drinks shook. “Val always gives a bit more trouble.”

“Mr. Stark, you’re going to want to take a look at that Valkyrie,” Vision piped up. Tony still couldn’t get over how weird his human form was. “She has potential.”

“I’ll put it on my to-do list,” Tony made a face. He was _not_ looking for new recruits. Especially ones that were friends with Loki. 

“I have a question,” Natasha said, pushing away her cleared plate. Beside her, Steve was seemingly lost in thought. Tony looked away. If he looked too long this would snap and they’d all be yelling and shouting before he could say ‘yahtzee’. “You said we’re playing capture tomorrow?” 

Capture the flag for the Avengers was not just any game of capture the flag. In the ‘good-ol’- days’ it had been their activity every single Friday afternoon. Everyone looked forward to it, they spent the whole week talking about it, and it seemed like life had revolved around it. The winning team would have absolutely no chores the following week, while the losers had to clean up and got the short stick on choosing missions. It was silly, but it had been fun. 

Plus, it was pretty much the most intense game of capture the flag ever. It should have been turned into an Olympic sport, the way they all played. 

“Yeah?” Pepper said. 

“How are we going to do that if we can’t use the grounds?” Natasha asked. The question was phrased in such a way where it seemed like she was asking if they could avoid the thing altogether. Tony agreed with her, not that he would admit it. 

“Oh we’ll just use…”

Tony wasn’t listening

The last thing he wanted to do was train with the people at this table. With Steve Rogers. Tony didn’t look at him, because he could feel the panic brewing under his skin and if he looked at him it would explode. 

Siberia. The bunker. His parents. Ice. Cold. Blood. Steve. Teeth-bared. Blue eyes. Ice. Blood. Cold. Metal on metal, sinking into his heart, the cold sinking into his heart. Lying there, staring up at stone, the last thing he’d ever see-

_ ‘He’s my friend.’_

_ ‘So was I.’ _

“Oh my god,” Wanda’s voice was what brought him back, she had a hand over her mouth. Everyone was staring at him. He could feel his heart pounding uselessly against his ribs. He must have drifted off. A precursor to the horrible panic attack he knew was coming. Peter had a hand on his arm, eyes wide and concerned. “Who did that to you?” 

“What did I tell you about reading minds, Wanda?” Tony’s voice was gruff and unfamiliar in his own ears. “Not polite.” 

“I-I couldn’t help it,” she shook her head. “Your pain was too...who did that to you, Stark?” 

“Ha,” Tony couldn’t help the terrible, broken laugh that bubbled out of his throat like hot tar. “Who did that to me? You didn’t tell them what happened in Siberia, did you, Rogers?” 

And finally, Tony met Steve Roger’s eyes. And it was just as awful as he remembered. Zemo had been right, there were flecks of green in all that blue. Imperfect. Fractured. Broken. Liar.

Steve held his ground. 

“No,” he said finally. “No I didn’t. Just that it happened.” 

“Didn’t tell them how you lost your shield?” 

“No.” 

“How you nearly beat me to death? No? What about how you drove that shield into my chest over and over and over and left me to die stuck in the suit you destroyed and no way to call for help. Did you tell them about _that_, Rogers?” 

“Tony-”

“No you had your chance, soldier,” he said. “We can all be a team again. Sure. Because we have to be. But you and I?” 

He didn’t need to finish that sentence. The table was frosty with silence, the others staring at the two of them with open mouths and angry eyes. 

Steve Rogers looked away first. 

Because of course he did. 

When Tony did too he looked at Peter and he did not like what he saw. The kid was glaring at Steve with more fury than Tony thought possible from him. His eyes were hot with fire, mouth set hard. 

And the fork in his hand was completely bent in half. 

“We’re going to the lab,” Tony stood quickly, pulling the kid up with him. “Don’t leave a mess. Thanks for dinner, Pep.” 

As soon as the elevator doors closed and the yelling started outside, Peter flung his arms around him. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry,” he was saying. Tony caught his bearings and gave him a pat. Peter quickly backed off, face red. “I’m sorry.” 

“What are you apologizing for, Parker?” 

“Because I just almost socked Captain America in the face,” he said, wincing. “And they all think I’m your son.” 

It was a mix of adrenaline, nerves, and how epically horrible _that_ had gone, but Tony started to laugh. He laughed until his chest shook and he had to brace himself on the wall and Peter was just staring at him like he was absolutely crazy. Which honestly, maybe he was. But he was Iron Man, he was allowed to be crazy. 

“Wh-wh...uh...are you alright, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked. He had taken a step forward, scratching his head nervously. 

“Nope!” Tony said happily. “Not even a little bit! But did you see their faces?” 

“Uhm...when?” 

“When they all decided you’re my son!” he laughed some more. “Pfft. My son. Sounds weird. Wanna play some catch…_son_?” 

“That was really awful, wasn’t it?” Peter started to laugh along with him. It didn’t matter that the elevator had reached the lab and doors were open. They were too busy having a mental breakdown. “Like...like 11 out of 10 awfulness.” 

“3000 out of 10!” 

“Do we have to deal with that all summer?”

“What the Avengers don’t look so cute and shiny now?” Tony asked. “Don’t want any autographs?” 

“No, not really!” Peter laughed, and then his face fell. “Mr. Stark I have to tell you something and you have to promise not to be mad.” 

Uh oh. That was never good. Tony kind of felt like he was about to pass out. 

“No promises, what did you do?” 

“_I_ didn’t do anything, I swear,” he held up his hands. “It was all Wanda.” 

“...what did you do?” a bit more forceful this time. 

“Uh she kind of...she kind of,” Peter bit his lip. “ShekindoffiguredoutI’mSpider-Man.” 

“She _what_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops! I'd give that dinner a solid E for Effort. They're all trying their best. Get ready for fun stuff coming! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and please leave a comment down below <3
> 
> Also: If you wanna chat check out the Tumblr I just got set up at Viretta91!


	4. I Swear To God, I'm Gonna Rip His Head Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Friday, where’s Peter?” 
> 
> “Peter is currently in the gym with Natasha and Steve.” 
> 
> That woke him right the hell up. Nothing like some pure fear to start the day. 
> 
> OR
> 
> In which a lot goes wrong, and maybe something goes right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was absolutely a blast to write, and I'm so happy with how it turned out. I did go a bit overboard- it's nearly double the length of previous chapters! Please make sure to read my notes at the bottom. I'm so glad that people are enjoying this <3

When Peter finally collapsed into bed after a long, stressful, slightly terrifying day, he felt like he was about to pass out. 

“Fri, can you cut the lights?” 

“Sure thing, Peter.” 

The room was plunged into darkness, and Peter released all the air he had been holding in. It felt so good to finally lie down. 

Tony had yelled at him for a while, after the whole ‘Wanda found out my identity’ thing. Apparently, that meant that Vision knew too because they told each other everything and he was a supercomputer. In the end though, Mr. Stark had fallen asleep, sprawled across the lab table, half on top of his latest web-shooters. 

And Peter had met the Avengers. That was a thing that had happened to him today. If he hadn’t dreamt that whole thing, which was honestly kind of likely. Peter wouldn’t be surprised. 

He reached blindly around his bedside table until he found his mask, and slipped it over his head. Instantly he was met with stats and diagrams and options for night-vision, which he declined with a wave of his hand. 

“Hey, Karen?” 

“Yes, Peter?” his AI asked, flickering to life. 

“Do you know what’s happening right now?” 

“Give me a moment to update my global news,” she paused. “Oh. I’m very sorry Peter, that must be stressful. How are things going?” 

“Badly. Really badly. Like-like epically badly,” he sighed, drumming his fingers on his pajama shirt. “All the Rogue Avengers showed up, and a whole lot of Asgardians, and Mr. Stark was freaking out. I’ve never seen him so…”

“On edge?” she supplied. “It’s understandable, Peter, it’s a very stressful situation. I am sensing unusually high levels of residual adrenaline from you.” 

“Mm,” Peter turned on his side, tugging the blankets tighter around him. “All the Avengers think Mr. Stark is my dad.”

“And how do you feel about that, Peter?” 

“I mean it’s kinda funny,” he shrugged. “And at least they don’t know about Spider-Man- well, Wanda and Vision know I’m Spider-Man ...Oh, I almost punched Captain America. Like really.” 

“And why was that, Peter?” 

Peter made a fist in his sheets. He didn’t know how Mr. Stark was dealing with all this. Sure, at dinner he had exploded and said some horrible things. But under the circumstances, he was doing pretty well. 

And if what he said was true…

Than Steve Rogers really had almost killed Mr. Stark. Had almost _succeeded_ in killing Mr. Stark. 

And Peter wanted to hurt him for that. 

“Because he really, really hurt my friend,” he told her. “He hurt Mr. Stark.” 

“Mm,” she made a sad hum. “You’re referring to ‘Civil War’.”

“Yeah,” Peter said. “I’m just not sure if I can act like nothing’s wrong. And-and I know it’s none of my business, believe me. I know that. It’s just...Mr. Stark has helped me so much. I want to help him too.”

“I believe you would be helping him by staying calm,” Karen said. 

“You’re probably right.”

“What about the other Avengers?” 

“Oh they’re…_the Avengers_,” Peter said. “I met Dr. Banner! He’s so cool! And-and Thor kept trying to give me alcohol! _Thor_, Karen! And I was like three feet away from Hawkeye, and Black Widow, and Falcon. And Scarlet Witch cornered me and read my mind.” 

“It seems like you’ve had quite the day, Peter,” Karen said. “May I suggest you try to sleep soon?” 

“Yeah...I should, shouldn’t I?” Peter turned over onto his back, staring up into the darkness. “Goodnight, Karen.” 

“Goodnight, Peter.”

\-------

When Peter woke up he still had his mask on and he was squashed onto his face, tangled in blankets, and hanging half off of the bed. He groaned and sat up, tugging the red fabric from his head. 

“Good morning, Peter,” Friday said, automatically opening his window-wall curtains- which had a view of the pool and forest- and letting in way too much light. “How did you sleep?” 

“Urghh,” he flopped back down, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?” 

“It is 6:25 AM. You are awake much earlier than normal. Is something wrong?” 

“No, I think I had...I think I had a bad dream,” Peter said. It was still there, lingering like a bad aftertaste, but it was too wispy to grasp. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Peter,” Friday said. “Would you like me to wake Boss?” 

“Oh, no, definitely not,” he shook a hand vaguely at the ceiling. Slowly he let the events of the previous day come back to him. 

The Avengers. Wanda. Dr. Banner. Steve Rogers. 

He had a sinking feeling that today wasn’t going to go well. Peter could’ve chalked it up to nerves but it was a little too spider-sensey for his liking. 

Peter rolled out of bed and stood, stretching as he surveyed his room. There were some changes that needed to be made, because if any of the Avengers walked in they would know he was Spider-Man immediately. 

The whole thing was filled with red and blue accents, web hammocks and new web canisters, stuff was stuck to the ceiling(mostly snacks he had been hoarding), and there was a mini-lab/desk at the back which was covered in suit designs. Even the couch area had the same web-accents on all of the furniture as were on his suits.

He should probably talk to Mr. Stark about subtlety. 

After he had showered and gotten dressed (button-down flannel and dark jeans) he decided to brave the day and went out into the compound. 

It was oddly dark and silent, the only light on in the kitchen. Peter heard someone drinking coffee and tried to calm his steadily racing heart. He could do this. 

When he turned the corner he was met with none other than Black Widow. She was sitting at the table, wearing a black tank top and sweats, her white hair up in a messy bun, looking like she had just come from some early morning training. She had a copy of the New York Times sprawled out in front of her, and was scanning the headline- _Rogues Pardoned, Aliens harbored at Avengers Compound, Secretary Ross Denies All Comments_. 

“Well please, make yourself comfortable,” she said without looking up. Peter jumped, catching his bearings and moving further into the kitchen. He would have to eat meals with high protein if he wanted to not show everyone his high metabolism. He settled on an omelet and some toast, and got busy preparing his food. “So you’re Tony’s...son?” 

“Yes,” he said, rather unconvincingly. He didn’t dare look at her. 

“Mm,” she hummed. “But you’re not.” 

Peter froze over the pan, slowly looking over at her. 

“Wh-Why would you say that, Ma’am?” 

“I know Tony. He was careful even what he wasn’t,” she said. “And you’re burning your eggs.” 

Peter yelped, flipping his omelet quickly. Crap, think Parker, think, don’t be dumb. 

“Sorry, Ma’am, all I know is he’s my dad,” Peter shrugged. The odd words fumbled and got stuck in his mouth. 

“Ok. Sure.” Natasha flipped through her newspaper and held it up for him to see. It was a picture of Spider-Man swinging through the sky with the title- _Spider-Man Missing, Summer Vacation Or Sinister Activity?_. “But that’s you, right?” 

Peter moved his pan off the stove and turned to face her. Her green eyes were piercing, face calm and collected. Utterly terrifying. 

“N-nooooo.”

“Really?” she looked at the picture again. “Because I never forget a voice. And I’ve heard yours before. I’ve seen you before, actually. Berlin? Epic showdown? Ring any bells?”

All Peter could think was how much he was dead. Mr. Stark was going to kill him. He would look down on all of this as a ghost and haunt the compound. 

“You’re crazy,” he shook his head. “Spider-Man is a friend of mine but _I’m_ not Spider-Man.” 

“I’m crazy?” she smiled a little. Peter understood now why she was the world’s greatest spy. 

“Oh- no, I’m so sorry, Ma’am, I take that back-”

And suddenly there was a mug hurling towards him and before he could think his spider-senses screamed: _CATCH!_

_Shit_.

“Hi Spider-Man,” Black Widow said. “I’m Nat. Nice to meet you.” 

Peter stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, not blinking, not breathing, wishing he could cease to exist as the Black Widow stared him down. 

“Mr. Stark is gonna murder me,” he said finally. She chuckled. 

“Probably,” she said. “But don’t worry, he couldn't have expected this to hold up very long. And it’s not like I’m telling anyone.” 

“You-you’re not?” 

“Why would I? This is going to be fun,” she said. “Wanda and I have started a bet to see how long it will take the others to find out.” 

“You and Wanda…?” Peter was suddenly feeling very light-headed. He grabbed his half-finished breakfast and sat down across from her at the table. Two Avengers were betting about how long he could keep his secrets. Which, judging from the past two days, was an average of about one minute and thirty seconds. 

“You and Stark left dinner before the party started,” she said. “Yelling, food throwing, dish breaking. The whole nine yards. I gave Steve a nasty bruise.” 

She vaguely traced her cheekbone. 

“You punched Captain America?” 

“Yeah. He deserved it.” 

“I thought you were on his side?” 

“I am,” Nat said. “But that doesn’t excuse him if he’s in the wrong. And he was in the wrong.”

This whole conversation felt like some weird fever-dream. Ned wasn’t going to believe it. 

“Are the Avengers going to be okay?” Peter asked. 

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” she looked down at the table thoughtfully. “C’ mon. Change into something more comfortable. I’m going to help you train.” 

“Wh- _really_?” 

“Christmas has come early, I know,” she stood. “Be there in 10.”

And with that, she strolled out of the room and into the elevator. Peter just sat there at the table, trying to wrap his head around what the hell had just happened and dumbly shoveling food into his mouth. 

“Good morning, Peter, you’re up early,” Miss Potts walked onto the rec floor, coming towards the table to ruffle his hair. She was in a loose sleep dress with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders but she still looked glamorous. “Tony’s still passed out, poor thing. How’d you sleep?” 

“I think I just died,” he said. 

“Why’s that? You look pretty undead to me.” 

“Black Widow knows who I am. She asked me to train with her. In ten minutes.” 

Pepper plopped down into a seat, brows furrowed. 

“What?” 

“_I know_.”

“Are you sure she knows who you are?” Pepper asked. 

“Yes.”

“Ok,” she looked down at the floor. “And do I need to do any damage control?” 

“I don’t think so?” 

“You don’t think so,” she said. “Ok. Let’s not overreact. It’s Natasha, she’s trustworthy. Do you want me to go down to keep an eye on you?” 

“No, I think that might be embarrassing,” Peter said. “But thank you, Miss Potts.” 

“Alright, Sweetheart. Well, I’m going to have Friday keep a lookout for me, and just call if you need anything.” 

Peter went to go change into exercise clothes, get his web-shooters, and glare at himself in the mirror to say- yes, you can do this, Parker, don’t be a dumbass. He was about to head out when his phone buzzed. 

**MJ**

_Hey loser_

_Are you still alive_

**PeterMan**

_Unfortunately._

_ I’m about to train with Black Widow_

**MJ**

_So the answer is no._

_It was nice knowing you i guess_

Peter shook his head fondly and got into the elevator. 

“Gym, Friday?” 

“Ok, Peter.” 

Peter had known, since childhood, that Black Widow was the scariest Avenger. He had been ten during the Battle of New York, and watching, horrified, from his apartment in Queens. He remembered that day clearly. Huddled under blankets on the couch with May and Ben, curtains drawn and television down low as they assured him it was all going to be alright. Iron Man was going to save them. 

But on the TV it hadn’t been just Iron Man. All six of them were incredible. And afterward, with all of the battles and political dramas that ensued Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark had always remained the most controversial. Peter had a feeling for her it was the whole former Russian spy thing. Americans tended to be on edge about that sort of stuff. 

The elevator doors opened and Peter strolled out into the gym. 

It was his absolute favorite part of the compound, with huge windows looking out at the great lawn- now covered with Asgardians- climbing walls, punching bags, an armory, rooms with automatic training bots. It had a whole aerial course with ropes and ledges and things he could jump off of. This was where he went to clear his head. 

And standing in the middle of the central room, was Natasha Romanoff, fighting the air with two long staffs and winning. She stopped when he walked up to her, blowing the hair out of her face, and tossed him a staff. 

“You’re late. Keep up, Parker,” was all the warning she gave before she attacked. 

Peter had been in fights. A lot of fights. But nothing like this. 

Even though he could sense every move before she made it, even though he was physically stronger, she had him easily overpowered in seconds. The way she moved was fluid, not one break to think about the next step, just working on muscle memory. She wasn’t even trying. 

For a moment he thought he had the upper hand, forcing her back a few steps. 

Then her staff hit him hard in the knees and he went tumbling down. She was on top of him before he could blink, pinning him. 

“Never let your opponent fool you,” she said and offered him a hand up. “You have potential. Show me what you can do.” 

“You-you mean like powers?” Peter croaked. 

“What else?” 

“Ok, ok yeah,” he said. He gulped, raising his web-shooters to a ledge on the aerial course, double-clicked, and pulled. 

And he was soaring through the air, that familiar stomach-dropping sensation of catching himself before he could fall. Peter wished he could live like this forever, just swinging around, fighting crime, stopping evil. 

“Is that organic or synthetic?” Nat called from down below, arms crossed as she surveyed him. 

“Ew- synthetic. I designed it myself.” 

He swung himself back down so he was next to her and proceeded to show her all of his other powers. 

“You can lift more than Steve,” Natasha said, impressed when he showed her his super-strength. 

“Really? I can lift more than Captain America?” Peter gaped. Natasha laughed. 

“He’s not so big and regal, you know,” she said. “Steve’s a lot more normal than you would expect.”

“Don’t go spilling all my secrets, Romanoff,” and suddenly Steve Rogers was walking in. Peter really hoped he hadn’t heard much. He kicked away his weights and stood tall. 

Steve Rogers. Captain America. 

Peter remembered when he had come out of the ice. When he was ten, and Ben had been so excited, showing Peter all of the vintage trading cards his dad had bought him. Peter remembered when he was 14, and he stole Captain America’s shield. He also remembered last night. He remembered how much pain this man had caused Mr. Stark. And up close he was just that- a man. 

Peter held his ground. 

“I was just showing Peter here some basic defense,” Natasha said. “He was trying to lift your weights.” 

“Heh. You’re gonna need some special serum for that, son,” Steve said, lifting the weight and twirling it around like it was nothing. “So...you’re Tony’s kid? How’d that come about?” 

“Uh,” Peter blinked. How had they not figured out a cover story? Stupid, stupid, stupid. “My mom worked for him. Way back when. He didn’t know about me.” 

Natasha smirked at him out of the corner of her eye- ‘well done’. 

“Well, you’re one lucky kid,” Steve said. “Tony’s a good man.” 

_Tony’s a good man_. 

Did Mr. Rogers really believe that? Or was this all a show? As much as part of him wanted to run away from Captain America, the other part wanted to figure this guy out. What were his real motives here? Was he just going to hurt Mr. Stark again? 

_Never let your opponent fool you._

“The best.” 

\------

Tony had been laying in bed staring at the ceiling for the past twenty minutes and really, he had no immediate plans to move. Why would he? There were just so many downsides to him moving. 

1\. He would be forced to see his “teammates”  
2\. He would have to act like he was functioning  
3\. Fucking capture the flag   
4\. Steve “stupid-head” Rogers

Then again, Peter was probably awake by this point, and so was Pepper, and he didn’t want to leave them alone with those _assholes_. 

“Friday, where’s Peter?” 

“Peter is currently in the gym with Natasha and Steve.” 

That woke him right the hell up. Nothing like some pure fear to start the day. 

“_What?!_,” Tony sat bolt upright, flinging himself out of bed and catapulting across the room. “What the fuck, no-no he’s not! This isn’t funny Friday!” 

“I’m sorry, Boss, but this is not a joke.” 

“Gah!” Tony wrestled on a black bathrobe and sprinted out of his room, through his private floor, and into the elevator. 

“Where to, Boss?” 

“_Gym_, Friday!” Tony stood there seething, foot tapping nervously against the ground. How dare they be around Peter without his permission. Didn’t they have any common sense? “I swear to god, I’m gonna rip his head off.” 

“I would advise against that, Boss.” 

“Screw you!” 

“Noted, Boss.” 

Tony stormed out of the elevator in his bathrobe, across the gym floor, and socked Steve Rogers right in his stupid face. 

“_Holy_\- Mr. Stark!” Peter squawked, dragging him backward. “Mr. Stark, what are you doing?!”

Natasha and Steve were standing close together, looking ready for a fight. But Steve...well he just looked sort of sad. Like a kicked puppy. 

“Get the hell away from my kid!” Tony shouted, shoving Peter behind him. Even if Peter wasn’t technically his son, May Parker had placed him under his protection for the next two months. Tony was going to his damndest protecting him. 

“Tony, it’s fine!” Peter tugged on his sleeve. “I’m okay. Look. I’m okay.” 

Tony did look, and what he saw was Peter in training clothes, curls plastered to his forehead. 

“Why were you training with my kid?” Tony turned back to the others. “You do realize you have to ask permission for this sort of thing, right? As far as I’m concerned you kidnapped him. Not a good place to be.” 

“Tony, I didn’t kidnap your kid,” Natasha crossed her arms. “He could have said no.” 

“Yeah because a teenage boy would say no to training with the Black Widow and Captain America.” 

“I just arrived,” Steve held up a hand. “I can leave.” 

“No, no that won’t be necessary,” Tony put a hand on Peter’s back. “_We’re_ leaving.” 

Tony marched the kid back into the elevator.

They stood in awkward silence. Peter sniffed. 

“Look, Mr. Stark-”

“Can it.” he snapped. Peter looked down at his feet. “Do you know how dangerous that was? You can’t just do that sort of thing with them.” 

‘Them’. 

He spat the word out like it tasted wrong in his mouth. 

“I’m really, really sorry,” Peter said. “I’m sorry I scared you. But Nat, she figured out I’m Spider-Man! How could I say no?” 

God, this kid was going to be the death of him. He sighed heavily. 

“Look, Kid,” he said. “They used to be the Avengers. And then they broke the law because they were prideful and hurt a lot of people. I don’t trust them around me, so I sure as hell don’t trust them around you. You’re my responsibility.” 

“I-I know that it’s just...I thought you were all trying to be a team again?” 

And dammit, the kid was right. 

They _were_ supposed to be trying to be a team again. And yeah, Tony had a bit of bad blood with all of The Rogues but that was mostly for the whole Raft incident. The biggest thing keeping them all apart was Tony and Steve. 

But was he ready to forgive him? 

Was he ready to just forget about Siberia? 

Maybe he and Rogers needed to have a very serious talk. 

\---------

“God, I feel like I’m in high school again. And it’s gonna be fine, Steve, you’re actin’ like it’s the end of the world,” Sam hit his shoulder. They were all suited up in the elevator, ready to go. Steve felt like they were marching into war. Like he was leading the front lines again, deep into enemy territory, waiting for the attack. 

“Yeah, sure, because _this_ is going to go well,” Clint said. 

Steve had to side with Clint on that one. He already had two matching fist-shaped bruises on both cheeks that the archer had called his, “anime girl blush”. Steve wasn’t sure what that meant but it was nothing good. 

“How are we doing teams?” Natasha asked. “I mean are they going to split it down the middle or mix us up?” 

“Nothing good,” Clint said. 

They walked out and into the gym, where the others had already assembled. Peter was standing close to Tony, who still looked just as grumpy and put out as he had that morning. 

The rest of the team had given him hell for Siberia. As they should. Steve had taken the heat without complaint.

“Great!” Pepper clapped. “We’re all here. I’m going to go over rules, and teams, and everything. Peter, Bruce, and I will be refereeing.” 

“What, you don’t want a Hulk loose around here?” Bruce winced. It was so weird to be standing here with all of these people again. About to play their favorite game. Steve just hoped it didn’t end in blood and tears. 

“No, we don’t,” Miss Potts laughed. “And on that note, if any of you break those windows there’ll be hell to pay. I mean it. Now, rules: four to a team, and one flag per team. There’s one flag guard, one defense, one jail guard, and one offense, but these positions can switch at any time. The flag guard can have the flag on their person but it’s not recommended. The room is split down the middle, and there’s plenty of space for you to hide your flag well. You are sent to jail if you are overpowered by your opponent. Teams are: Tony, Clint, Steve, Wanda. And: Sam, Natasha, Thor, and Vision. Any questions?” 

Ok, so he was on a team with Tony. This would either go really well or apocalyptically bad. Steve wasn’t quite sure yet. 

They were given their flags and split up onto their respective sides. All three of his teammates looked extremely uncomfortable, ready to run away at any second. 

“Alright, team,” Steve said. “Let’s huddle. Game plan.” 

“How ‘bout we just go in and shoot?” Tony said wryly. 

“Not the best play,” Steve said. “We need to think about this strategically if we want to beat them.”

“I’m best at defense,” Clint said. “I’m on flag to start. I’ll hide. If they can’t see me, they’ll never find it. Wanda, take jail?” 

“On it,” she said. “They won’t get past me.” 

“That’s what I’m counting on,” Steve said. “Alright, Tony, offense or defense?” 

“Offense,” he said. “I want to blow something up.” 

Steve had a feeling that Tony wanted to blow _him_ up. 

“Alright, sounds like a plan,” Steve said. “Everyone has their comms in? Ok, go team.” 

And with that they scattered, Wanda and Steve hiding in the shadows near the dividing line while Clint hid and Tony went off to fight, Iron Man suit closing around him. It felt like old times. 

“Tony, what do you see?” Steve asked. The gym was so large that he had no idea where the other Avengers were. 

“Thor is defense! But he’s missing his hammer!” Tony said, panting, and Steve could just make out the sounds of fighting across the room. 

“Any eyes on the others?”

“Wilson’s also on defense he must be jail guard. No eyes on Vision or Romanoff!” 

That was concerning. Steve met Wanda’s eyes from across the room. Vision was probably the flag guard because he was a powerful last line of defense, which meant that Natasha was either coming their way or already on their side. 

“Gah! Rogers, I’m in jail,” Tony spluttered over the comms. Steve sighed. When Tony was rash he wasn’t focused, and right now he was only fighting with his anger. 

“Alright, Tony, hold tight,” Steve said. He nodded at Wanda, she was going to have to stop Natasha. He didn’t risk saying his plan aloud unless the spy was already listening. 

Steve quickly climbed a rock wall and hopped onto the aerial course, which was a collection of nets, rope bridges, and essentially high-tech trampolines. It reminded him of that base he and Bucky had broken out of, jumping over pits of fire...

From this height he could see it all, Peter, Pepper, and Bruce talking quietly on the sidelines, Wanda gearing up for a fight, the other team. Thor had placed himself in the middle of the floor, crackling with electricity, scanning the perimeters. Vision was nowhere in sight, but Steve could spot Sam and Tony arguing in a corner that had been previously obscured from view. 

Back on his side, he saw Wanda and Natasha start fighting, going all out. Red light exploded through the room. 

He wanted to avoid a fight with Thor at all costs because he was pretty sure that was what had done Tony in, and Steve didn’t have an Iron Man suit or a shield to protect him from electrocution. 

So, Steve slunk through the shadows up above, towards Tony. To save his friend. 

Tony was smart, he had distracted Sam by starting an argument, but Steve had to get the timing right. 

“That’s your problem, Stark,” Sam was saying. “You always need to be right. Don’t care who you hurt as long as you get the last word.” 

“I’m sorry are you talking to me?” Tony framed a hand around his ear- the mask on his suit had been lowered. “Are you even still relevant?”

“See? You’re just proving my point. Not even taking the-“

Steve dropped down, landing on Sam’s shoulders and flipping him to the ground. 

“On your left!” 

“Jesus Christ! Steve’s here- I need backup!” Sam shouted into his comm, flipping up into a fighting stance. “Seriously, man?” 

“Rule number one- never let your opponent fool you,” Steve said and dove in. He didn’t want to dance with Sam too long because he knew those wings could be lethal when they wanted too, and Sam was a skilled fighter himself. All he had to do was get him down long enough to get to Tony. 

Sam faked him out and got in a swift uppercut, so good that Steve could taste the blood pooling in his mouth. He spat it out and retaliated by hitting Sam hard in the head and sweeping his legs out from under him. Not wasting a second, he ran to Tony and tagged him on the shoulder. 

“You mind givin’ us a lift back to base?” he asked. Tony was tense at their proximity but didn’t move back. Sam was stirring on the ground, and he could see Thor charging at them in the distance. “Any day now, Tony.” 

“What am I, a magic carpet?” he gritted out, holding out his arms for Steve to grab onto. “Fine, Jasmine, a whole new world awaits.” 

“I’ve never seen that movie.” 

“Just hold tight, grandpa.” 

And suddenly they were catapulting through the air, Steve holding on for dear life while Tony made sure to fly low enough so that he hit his legs on every single protruding rock wall. They were close to the middle line now, and Steve could see Wanda, Natasha, and Clint all still locked in a fight that had no foreseeable end. He was sure he could hear people laughing below. He wasn’t living this down anytime soon.

“That’s cheating!” and then Thor was flying at them, surrounded by arcs of lightning and whacking them out of the sky. Steve braced himself for impact and tumbled across the padded ground, quickly catching his bearings and dropping into a fighting stance. 

Now Thor was an extremely powerful god with over 1000 years of strategy and fighting experience. A king, technically. This was going to be tough, but Steve didn’t back down from a challenge.

“Ready when you are,” Thor smiled. He was too damn cheerful. 

But Steve was a World War II vet, he had grown up in a tenement slum, the son of poor Irish immigrants. It would be his 100th birthday this July. He had beat the Red Skull. He could take a god. 

And he had help. 

And so together, working like they had never been apart, Tony Stark and Steve Rogers took down the King of Asgard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this, and please leave a comment down below!<3
> 
> As I'm sure most of you have heard, the future of Spider-Man is very much up in the air right now. I can't tell you how much this upset me. There are so many things that Spider-Man's removal from the MCU could mean, and from what I've read, none of them are good. If you want this character to remain in the world and with the people that we all love, please I urge you to sign one of the petitions attached down below, it would only take ten seconds of your time. There are a lot of other petitions out there as well, but these are two that are very close to their goals, and just need that extra push. Let's show Disney and Sony that we care!
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/disney-spiderman-to-comeback-to-the-mcu
> 
> https://www.change.org/p/sony-keep-spider-man-in-the-mcu-03d933b7-2dbb-4d79-b33d-e4fd79c720a6
> 
> Thank you again
> 
> \- V


	5. And, It Just Keeps Getting Worse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’ve had quite the night, haven’t you, Pete?” Iron Man’s faceplate turned down to look at him as they flew towards Manhattan. 
> 
> “I’m grounded aren’t I?” 
> 
> “_So_ grounded.” 
> 
> OR
> 
> Peter decides to head down to Queens for a break from all the drama. This is not the best decision. Pepper is probably going to kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mannn, everybody get on board the angst train! Le'ssgo~ woot woot! 
> 
> Thank you so much for all of your support! It's about time Spider-Man got swinging around in this fic, so please, enjoy!

As soon as he took to the sky in Queens, he knew everything was going to be alright. This was where Peter belonged, high up above all the twinkling lights, keeping his city safe from the things that went bump in the night. It would have been perfect. 

If not for the mob of people following him, phones out, videotaping his every move. Apparently, his arrival in Queens was a big deal, since half of the internet had decided he was dead in his short absence. Peter had really known it was time to take the train ride down to his home borough when _#RIPSpidey_ started trending on Twitter. 

Also, he was apparently the first “big” superhero to make an appearance since the Asgardians arrived, and everyone was blowing that way out of proportion. Also trending on Twitter? _#GoHomeAliens_. Peter really hated people sometimes. 

He would never catch a crime like this. As soon as he got close, the baddies went scurrying away, scared off by the mob. He was half tempted to turn around and yell at them all to go to sleep. It was already late. Didn’t they have anything better to do than follow around a sixteen-year-old in spandex with DIY web-shooters? 

“Spider-Man what is the current state of The Avengers?” a reporter called from down below, cameras clicking. So that's why they were following him so relentlessly. They wanted information on the big-guns. 

Maybe if he just answered some questions they would leave him alone? 

Spider-Man flipped down onto the sidewalk, making the growing crowd screech to an abrupt halt. There was a collective breath of shock before all the yelling started. 

Flashing lights. Screaming. So many people.

It was a lot for his heightened senses. 

“Good evening, citizens,” he saluted, trying to hide his wince. “I can answer a few questions. One at a time, please. Yeah, you, in the yellow hat?” 

“Spider-Man, would you please comment on the current state of the Accords?” yellow-hat Lady thrust a microphone into his face. 

“No can do, Ma’am, you’ll have to take that up with Mr. Stark or the Capt’n,” he said. “Those are national secrets!” 

More yelling. 

“So it’s true that that the Rogue Avengers are also at the Avengers Compound?” 

“Why did the Asgardians have to come to _our_ planet?” 

“What does Tony Stark smell like?” 

“Marry me, Spidey!” 

“Are you officially joining the Avengers?’ 

“We want answers!” 

“Hey Loser, get in we’re going shopping!” 

Hang on a second...

_MJ?!_

Peter spun around, and there, standing half-submerged in the shadows of a side alley, was Michelle Jones. Her hair was half-up, frizzy and beautiful, and pressed down by a baseball cap. On her nose rested a pair of beat-up aviators, and she was dressed in dark clothes and a hoodie covered by a leather jacket. 

“What the-” 

She yanked him into the alley, which the reporters crowded around, camera lights flashing like fireworks. 

“Would you look at that, you’re famous,” she smirked. “Well, what are you waiting for? Beam me up, Scotty.” 

“Was that a Star Trek reference? _Traitor_!”

He put his arms around her waist and launched them up onto the nearest rooftop. He definitely wasn’t blushing. No-siree. 

MJ and he were...complicated. At the end of the school year, they had definitely had a thing, and gone on a few very lowkey unofficial dates before Ned yelled at them to, “just kiss already”. They hadn’t kissed, but she had given Peter an extra long hug on the last day of school. 

High school was weird. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked. Down below, Peter swore he could hear a doorman yelling at the reporters to go away, trying to stop them from climbing up the fire escape. 

“I figured you could use a little help, sometimes even heroes need saving,” she said. “You made national news: Queens vigilante breaks superhero lockdown! Spider-Man leads mob through New York City! Crime stopping or clout chasing, what are Spider-Man’s motives?”

Peter laughed. 

“Was that an actual title?” 

“Mmhm. CNN,” she smirked. “So? I thought you were dead?” 

“Metaphorically. There’s a difference,” Peter said. “Black Widow just beat me into the afterlife. Oh, MJ, I got the greatest video of all time!” 

“Oh yeah? Of all time? That’s quite the claim, Parker.” 

“Picture this,” Peter spread out his arms like there was an imaginary scene in front of them. MJ shook her head. And then, in his most serious voice, “Iron Man flies through the sky! Fabulous as ever! And who’s that on his arm? Captain America being dragged through the air and knocked into rock walls looking like his entire life is flashing before his eyes! And then? Thor comes along and frickin _yeets_ them out of the sky!” 

MJ snorted and burst out laughing, bringing up a hand to cover her mouth. Her laughter was infectious. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“So I’ve heard.” 

“So, are you an Avenger now? You’ve got the internet pretty obsessed with you,” MJ said. “There are so many conspiracy theories right now. People think that there’s an Alien invasion going on. Like, full apocalypse hoarding- groceries are going out of stock.” 

“They’re all going to Norway tomorrow! They’re harmless!” Peter said. “And no, I’m not an Avenger, Mr. Stark would kill me if I said I was an Avenger.” 

“Buzzfeed says otherwise,” MJ pulled out her phone and showed him an article title- _25 Reasons Why Spider-Man is the Best Avenger_. “That’s why you’ve got a cult following you around, people think you’ve been inducted.” 

“That sounds so ominous.” 

“It’s my specialty.” 

“MJ, I want to stop some crime,” Peter said. “But I need to get the press off my back.” 

“Hmm,” MJ looked down in thought. “I think I have an idea.” 

“Oh, yeah? Should I be scared?” 

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, Spider-Boy,” she smirked. “You ready?” 

“Sure...hey, MJ,” he started. Peter didn’t know how to do this. He wanted so badly to ask what exactly they were, with all of the drama going on. 

“Nope. Save the sappy stuff for later, C’Mon,” she tugged him to the edge of the roof. Once again he put his arms around her and jumped them down to the ground, right in the middle of the swarm of reporters and vlogging citizens. Pepper was going to kill him, and so were the residents of this building for all the commotion he was causing. 

More yelling. Lights flashing. Peter was half tempted to put MJ behind him, away from the threat.

“Spider-Man, who’s the girl?” 

“Spider-Man, is it true the Accords are being dissolved?” 

“Are we still safe?” 

“Go home, aliens! Get off my planet!” 

“Spider-Man, are you a mutant?” 

“Marry me, Spidey!” 

“Are Tony Stark and Steve Rogers working together again?” 

“How are we supposed to be protected by war criminals?” 

“HEY EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” MJ yelled. Peter winced, his enhanced hearing having caught the full brunt of her voice. “Hi, yes, thank you, I’m Spider-Man’s girlfriend, ask me anything!” 

And then she turned to face him, lifted his mask just off of his mouth, grabbed his face, and kissed him. 

Peter’s brain pretty much short-circuited right then and there. 

He was dead now. 

100% dead. 

Sorry, May. 

Sorry, Mr. Stark. 

See you in heaven or wherever. 

“Go stop crime, Loser,” she pulled away and whispered just so he could hear, pulling his mask back down. “And call me.” 

“You’re insane,” he said, voice hoarse. “You’re so insane.” 

“Get lost lover boy,” she patted his cheek. 

Peter cleared his throat, took one last look at the crowd of hollering reporters, and swung up and away. He went several blocks of feeling absolutely numb to the world before he realized that MJ’s plan had worked. There was no one following him because they were all too busy with her. 

Also, he was sure there had been several very high profile news stations there. MJ said CNN had a story running on him. That meant that her face would be everywhere by tomorrow morning if it wasn’t already by now. 

Crap. He was going to have to talk to Mr. Stark about making sure none of her personal information got out. Tony would have to do the same thing that he had done for Peter- remove her from all public records, anything accessible, make it seem like she had no digital trail, barely existed. _Crap_. 

“Karen, call Mr. Stark please,” his voice sounded frazzled and stiff in his own ears. The call connected on the second ring. 

“Yellow? What’s up, Spidey? I’m in the lab with Bruce Banner,” Mr. Stark said. Ok, Bruce was there, no spilling secrets. 

“Mr. Stark, check the news.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine, just-just check the news!” 

“Friday, can you pull up top news?” Tony asked. 

“What’s happening?” Bruce said somewhere in the background, voice muffled. 

There were a few moments of silence, where Peter just prayed to any entity that was listening that Mr. Stark wouldn’t be upset. 

“Kid, what the hell.” 

“Ok, so I know it looks bad, but-”

“Kid. You were literally out for like an hour, what the hell.” 

“_I know_, but-”

“I can and I will reinstall baby protocols!” Mr. Stark threatened. “Not even an hour, Spidey, you were outside for 54 minutes! And in that time you caused a national frenzy and your...girlfriend? Do you have a girlfriend now? Well, she called Captain America a ‘dick-head’ on live television, are you happy?!” 

Peter winced. 

“Yes, I know, but-”

“Aaand, it just keep getting worse,” Peter could practically hear Mr. Stark pacing. “Apparently you called the Accords situation a ‘national secret’?!”

The crowd had started to follow him again. It was smaller now, but no less frenzied and eager for any crumb of information it could get. 

“Ok, yes, that might have been a poor choice of words-” 

“Come to the compound right now, Kid, or I swear-” 

“No Spider-Man until I’m thirty, I know-” 

His spider-senses screamed. 

And then suddenly there was an arrow embedded deep in his side, plunging through muscle and fat and skin. His webs had been cut. He was falling. 

Peter screamed as he hit the ground, tumbling across cold asphalt, the arrow was torn out by the rough impact. Cars screeched and swerved out of the way to avoid hitting him. 

Stars swam in front of his eyes, the suit's alarms flashing bright red. 

“Kid?! Kid, what happened what’s-”

“Peter, you have been shot, my sensors detect that it is non-lethal, but you require immediate medical attention-” 

He heard it, just vaguely, through the grogginess. He heard their voices as he lay there on the asphalt, citizens screaming all around. But he couldn’t focus on anything over the sirens. 

Where were they coming from? Loud, whining, shaking his fragile skull. Did he have a concussion? He groaned, sitting up, and the sirens only got louder. They obscured everything else, masked all of his other senses, making the world around him bleary and confused. Like he was looking at an unfinished watercolor. All the edges blurred. 

Someone had shot him down with a crossbow. 

That’s when he realized he wasn’t hearing sirens at all. 

It was his Spider-Senses. Urging him to run away, to get up and fight, _anything_ to get away from the five huge, masked men in black tumbling out of the gray van that had just swerved sideways, blocking the road. 

“Hey, that was rude,” he stood shakily, crouching down low into a fighting stance. The men just kept moving towards him. “You could have just asked me to come down, politely.” 

“Come with us, and no one gets hurt,” the biggest guy said, his voice was gruff and electronic like he was wearing a poorly made vocal modifier. 

“No can do, Mr. Man, I have summer homework to finish!” and with that he swung into action, shooting webs and jumping around. With every move, he could feel blood seeping through his suit. 

They dodged his webs with ease, with the grace of dancers, like they had been trained for this. Like they had been trained for _him_. 

They didn’t have any weapons, he realized. Just themselves. Except for one smaller guy on the left, who was holding a long and empty syringe. That wasn’t a good sign. This was an organized operation.

Ok, so webs weren’t working. Running wasn’t an option, because there were civilians and reporters on all sides now and he didn’t want to put them in danger by drawing these guys into the crowd. That left the old hand-to-hand. 

Peter took out big-guy with a well-aimed punch to the forehead when he hadn’t been expecting it. He was beginning to feel groggy with blood loss. 

Three more guys piled on top of him, who he had to dance around, but not before they got in a few good licks to his ribs and face. Peter’s nose was throbbing and bloody. He could taste the salt in his mouth. 

“Can’t we talk this out, guys?” Peter asked. “I’m not really into this whole surprise attack deal. Pretty please?” 

A blow to the cheek that left his brain throbbing, a kick to the gut that sent him reeling on the ground, clutching at his bloody stomach. Peter coughed harshly, feeling like his brain had turned to mush and felt something warm and sticky running from his lips. 

In his dazed state, he couldn’t even react when the smaller guy jammed his syringe into Peter’s arm and drew blood. 

“What the fuck, man, not cool! Do you just carry that thing around with you?!” he rasped, trying to drag himself away. Someone grabbed him by the legs and started pulling him backward, towards the open back doors of the van. 

No, no no nononono-

“Hey, asshats, hands off!” and then Mr. Stark was there, flying in to save the day. Peter could have collapsed right then and there with relief. 

One of the men hauled Peter up by his neck and started running with him, Peter weakly punching at the man’s arms and kicking at his feet. 

“Geroffme, bozo!” he judo flipped the man over his head. “People these days!” 

Peter swayed on the spot, hands gripping the arrow wound, eyeing the scene around him. Iron Man was just finishing up blasting the last guy and the cops had arrived, ushering the swarming reporters away. 

But the van was gone. And there were only four men on the ground. The smaller guy had gotten away with a syringe full of his blood. 

_Shit_. 

“Kid! Kid, you’re giving me gray hair, talk to me!” Iron Man screeched to a halt in front of him and Peter fell forward, bracing himself on Tony’s armored forearms. 

“Uh, I think I...I think I need to lie down,” he rasped. His knees buckled. 

“Woah, woah, woah, not so fast Sleeping Beauty,” Tony scooped him up, legs off the ground. “Helen was in the area she’s gonna meet us at my apartment, ok? Just stay awake, Kiddo, that’s all I’m asking.” 

“Urghhh, mhmm,” Peter shivered as Tony blasted them off and up into the night. He didn’t dare look down at the cameras still flashing down below. 

“You’ve had quite the night, haven’t you, Pete?” Iron Man’s faceplate turned down to look at him as they flew towards Manhattan. 

“I’m grounded aren’t I?” 

“_So_ grounded.” 

“Wh-what did you t-tell the Avengers?” 

“That you’re at Ned’s and I had to go fix an emergency,” he said. “Ross is gonna have my head.” 

“I really screwed it up, d-didn’t I?” it was so cold up this high and he could barely feel his feet. His whole face was throbbing, his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 

“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” 

“‘M not worried. I’m with you.” 

“...You’re a sap, you know that, Parker?” 

“The biggest.” 

They landed on the balcony of Mr. Stark’s penthouse overlooking Central Park and the Museum of Natural History, Dr. Helen Cho already standing inside with her team, all in medical scrubs. 

“You’re lucky I was here, Tony, bring him in!” she called, leading them further into the apartment. Tony, being a fulltime superhero, and _ Tony Stark_, had had a fully equipped operating theater built into his apartment. Peter wasn’t sure how he got the permits for that, but at the moment it wasn’t his top concern. 

That was more along the lines of- ‘oh no, I’m bleeding out from a crossbow wound’. 

“The wounds not closing like it usually would. I think the arrow was poisoned- we’re going to put him under and clean this out,” Helen Cho was leaning over him. “Someone get me his anesthetic.” 

“Wait, Mis’r- Mis’r Stark,” Peter tugged on Tony’s sleeve. His mentor looked frazzled and concerned, like he had just lost five years of his life. 

“Yeah, buddy?” 

“He took my blood,” he slurred. “My blood.” 

One of the doctors injected something into his arm. Enough anesthetic to knock out a horse. He only had seconds left. 

“Who took your blood?” Mr. Stark’s face was fuzzy and contorted in Peter’s swimming vision. “Peter, _who took your blood_?!” 

And then he was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooooOOOo drama~
> 
> I'm having way too much fun. I'm doing this instead of summer homework. Thank you so much for sticking with me and for all of your support, please leave a comment down below if you feel so moved <3 <3 <3
> 
> \- V
> 
> (Also, enormous thank you to my beta, who's still setting up her ao3 account. You're the best, hon!)


	6. Spider-Man, the Most Chaotic Avenger, has Done it Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yes, team, this is Spider-Man,” Mr. Stark said as they took their seats on either side of Miss Potts. On Peter’s other side was Natasha, and she just looked him up and down- like she had no idea who he really was. “Spidey, this is the team.” 
> 
> “‘Sup?” he greeted. He was all Spider-man right now. No more self-conscious Peter Parker. “Like the beard, Cap’n.” 
> 
> OR
> 
> In the aftermath, things start to become clearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of your support! Enjoy! (Please read my notes at the end <3)
> 
> Also huge thank you to my awesome beta reader, you’re the best, hon!
> 
> P.S:
> 
> I got the names/details of MJ’s family from Mary Jane Watson’s family from the comics

The world came back to him first in colors. A dull, calming white, gray curtains drawn, pale sunlight phasing through. Then in smells. Disinfectant masked by something else- motor oil, expensive cologne, woman’s perfume, leather. Sound. Cars honking far below, a hot dog vendor making a sale, a woman yelling at her child, Mr. Stark’s steady breaths. And finally, in feeling. The soft, expensive feel of silk sheets. A dull pain in his abdomen. 

“Gurghh,” Peter brought up a hand, muted by fuzz and static, to rubbed at his sore face. “Mis’r Stark?” 

“Pete?” Mr. Stark dragged his chair towards him and Peter could hear the legs snagging on every tiny loop in the rug. “Hey, kiddo, how you feeling?” 

“Like the world wants me to suffer.” 

“Heh,” Tony laughed, but the sound was feeble and exhausted. “Yeah, I’m not gonna disagree with you. You’ve managed to outdo _me_.” 

“...I should get an award,” Peter looked over at his mentor. Tony was still dressed in a rumpled suit, tie askew, hair a mess. His StarkPad lay forgotten on the nightstand. “What time is it?” 

“It’s 9:34,” he said. “Next day. You’re fine, but you’ve caused quite the commotion.”

“Do I wanna know?” 

Mr. Stark sighed heavily and reached for a stack of magazines and newspapers, which he dumped into Peter’s lap. Peter sat up quickly, scanning across the titles, ranging from tabloids to the New York Times. 

_Spidey’s Wild Night Out: Hot Date Takes Horrific Turn _

_Mystery Goons Pummel Spider-Man in Surprise Showdown- Iron Man to the Rescue!_

_Spider-Man, the Most Chaotic Avenger, has Done it Again _

_Spider-Man’s Girlfriend Tells All, “The Avengers Should Just Get Over Their Bulls**t!”_

_Horrifying Showdown in Queens- Fate of Local Vigilante Unknown_

_So Are The Avengers Allowed to do Anything They Want, Now? _

_Attack On Spider-Man Feeds Growing Chaos, Public Up In Arms_

That last one was from the New York Times front-page headline, featuring a huge, blown up, high-res picture of Spider-Man bleeding out in Iron Man’s arms. Peter shuddered. 

Spider-Man was everywhere. Pictures of him falling from the sky, arrow in his side, offset against the glimmering lights of Queens. Him and MJ kissing, the camera’s glare in the dark glossy, looking like every paparazzi photo ever. Their first kiss displayed for the whole world to see. 

“Mr. Stark is MJ-” 

“Taken care of. There won’t be any information on her other than that...unfortunate interview,” Mr. Stark said, then leaned forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. “What were you _thinking_, Peter?” 

“The mob was following me, then MJ showed up, then it just...spiraled,” Peter shrugged. “Spiraled very quickly.” 

“We weren’t supposed to cause a scene like this until the conflict was resolved,” Mr. Stark said. 

“I was cross-bowed out of the sky!” 

“Yes. Exactly. And on that note,” Mr. Stark’s face turned grave, the face he got when he spoke of the wormhole or Ultron or Steve Rogers. “I have video footage of the attack and...kid, one of those guys has a sample of your blood.” 

_Oh._

He had forgotten about that unfortunate detail. 

“Wh-what do we do?” Peter asked. He was vaguely aware that he was shaking. His blood was invaluable. The result of mutations, the keycode to his superpowers. There was no telling what it could do in the wrong hands. How many people it could hurt. 

“_Hey_, Pete,” Tony had moved to sit on the bed without him noticing, his hands were on his shoulders. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” 

He must have looked really shaken up for Tony to be so gentle with him. Like he was made of glass. 

“Ok. Ok,” Peter nodded slowly. “I should...I should call May?” 

“Yes,” Mr. Stark said. “Definitely. I thought she was going to come out of the phone and strangle me.” 

Peter didn’t laugh at the grab for a joke, just reached for the phone he had left at the compound the day before, that Tony must have brought for him. And...Mr. Stark had dropped everything to help him. Had heard him screaming as that arrow pierced his flesh. Had sat here by his bed. 

“Tony….” he hesitated. The name had always felt strange on his lips but now it just felt...normal. Like a name. Not like some horrible invasion or crossing of boundaries. Just a name. “Thank you.” 

Tony was staring at him like he had a concussion. Like Peter was absolutely insane. Like he had just threatened to give up the superhero life and go live on a ranch. 

Silence. 

“Anytime, Pete,” he said finally, in a voice much too delicate for the ‘great Tony Stark’. Was that just the light or were his eyes shining? “Anytime.” 

There was a moment of comfortable silence, the AC blocking out the hot Manhattan summer, humming softly. Everything had gone pretty horribly, but for some reason, Peter felt kind of alright. 

Tony’s phone started to ring, but the man didn’t answer it. Just let it ring. And ring. And ring. 

“Uh...Tony?” again, the name. This time it was a little weird. Peter was going to have to get used to this. “Mr. Stark, you gonna answer that?’ 

“I should, shouldn’t I?” he asked, glaring at the name on the screen. He sighed. “I’ll be right back ...Why the _hell_ are you calling me? This conversation is over.” 

Mr. Stark stormed out of the room, closing the door behind him. Peter wondered who he could be talking to, but he guessed if it was important he’d let him know. 

His own phone had been put on do not disturb, but it was absolutely blowing up with messages. 30 texts and 3 missed calls from Ned, 19 texts and 5 calls from Aunt May, 5 texts from MJ, and a surprising 3 from Flash. That last one was concerning. 

**Flash**

_LMFAO_

_get rekt penis___

_ _ _ur gf’s cheating on u___ _ _

_ _ _ _Peter didn’t even bother responding to _that_. He liked to imagine sometimes when he was feeling especially spiteful, Flash’s face when he found out Spider-Man’s real identity. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **GuyInTheChair** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _PETER PARKER_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ANSWER ME_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _WHAT WAS THAT_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ARE YOU OKAY_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _WhAT ArE YOu DoINg?!?!_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **PeterMan** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Hey, man, all good_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Sorry for scaring u_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **MJ** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Hey, are you okay?_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Tony Stark just called my mom_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _I’m grounded. HBU?_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Answer me when you can, loser_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Sorry, just getting a little concerned_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **PeterMan** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _i’m so sorry_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _I’m all good, just a little bruised!_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _you’re safe?_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **MJ** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _all good, Parker_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _I mean my face is on the cover of TMZ but…_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **PeterMan** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _i’m so sorry_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Peter’s chest panged with guilt. The situation had escalated too quickly and now MJ was in danger. Because they were both stupid and reckless. All because of Spider-Man. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ **MJ** _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _it’s ok, it’s not every day someone asks for ur autograph at 7/11_ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Peter was laughing as he called his Aunt. He had to brace himself, there was no way this was going to be pretty. Outside, he could hear Mr. Stark in a screaming-match with someone over the phone. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Peter Benjamin Parker,” May picked up on the first ring- never a good sign- voice disturbingly calm. “How long was I gone?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“...Two weeks,” he said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mhm. Two weeks. And you did what?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Got myself in the middle of an Avengers conflict. Made the internet break. Got shot out of the sky?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Jackpot,” May said. “Two weeks, Peter! _Two weeks_\- you said you’d be ok while I was gone!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I am ok! There are just some...complications.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m coming back, I don’t feel good about this, I really don’t, honey, I’m sorry-” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No! No, May, that’s really not necessary-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Peter, you’re my kid. I woke up to see pictures of you-of you being shot down and almost _killed_. I don’t want to see that! I’m coming back.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“May,” Peter reasoned, heart hammering. He couldn’t stay with his aunt amid all this, he just couldn’t. And this was an amazing opportunity for May, she shouldn’t have to pass it up for his sake. “I’m spending my summer at the _safest_ facility in the whole world. Nothing’s going to happen at the compound, and if it does, the Avengers are there to protect me. And after this...well I think Spider-Man’s grounded for now. ” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“...You’ll call me every day?” May asked hesitantly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, thank you so much-” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And text me?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And make Tony call me too?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Absolutely! Thank you so much-” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Alright, Peter, I’m late for my class,” May laughed. “I love you so much, sweet stuff. I miss you. FaceTime, later?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes, I love you, May!” he made a sound into the phone like he was blowing a huge kiss and hung up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He was still riding the victory of being allowed to stay when Mr. Stark walked back in, haggard and stormy eyed. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“That _asshole_!” he swore, plopping down into his chair. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mr. Rogers?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No- well, him too,” Tony made a face. “No, I’m talking about Thaddeus Ross, the secretary of state. Or, my least favorite person ever.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“That’s an achievement,” Peter said. “I mean with a name like ‘Thaddeus’ it’s no wonder he’s so awful. I would be mad too.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Heh,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “He’s the front-man of the Accords. He’s furious about your little escapades last night.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh...that’s not good,” Peter’s hands twisted in the blankets. “And why is mad, exactly?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Because the public is now under the impression that you are an Avenger,” Tony said, rubbing his forehead. “Because you acted like you had the authority to answer questions. And now people are wondering why a _vigilante_ is buddy-buddy with the Avengers, who are under strict orders to follow the Accords. But now the Accords are up in the air, and people are scared. He wants you to sign.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Mr. Stark rambled this out like he had been over it a hundred times, eyes dull and unfocused. Peter was quickly learning that where the Avengers were involved, it got very political very fast. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“But- I _can’t_ sign!” Peter said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Well, _I_ know that, and Pepper knows that, and Natasha and Wanda know that, but unfortunately I can’t tell anyone else the reasons,” he said. “Can I say that you’re a minor? No. People get mad. Can I say that you don’t want to endanger anyone? No. He says you’re endangering people by _not_ signing- _jackass_.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“But if I sign I won’t be able to help the little guy! I’d only be able to go on Avengers approved missions! I-I wouldn’t be Spider-Man anymore!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Which is why it’s not gonna come to that,” Mr. Stark held up a hand. “Right now, a lot of the Avengers don’t want to sign the Accords. That’s why we’re fixing them. He can’t force you to do anything.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“But what about the press?” Peter gestured to the articles still spread out around him. “I mean last night doesn’t exactly make superheroes look good. Those guys attacked _me_. I was why everyone was in danger.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah, I’m not gonna lie, the public is freaking the hell out,” Tony said. “Which is why we all need to put on our Sunday-best and give some Oscar-worthy performances for those interviews Pepper scheduled. And...and Spider-Man has to be there.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _That last part was slow, like he was breaking painful, life-altering news. In a way, Peter guessed he was. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“_Hang on a second_!” he perked up. “Am I an Avenger now? Have I been inducted?!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No, no, no, hold your horses,” Mr. Stark said. “Spider-Man is an _unofficial_ ally. You’re our speed dial. But for press purposes, Pepper wants you with us.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh wow- ...wait,” Peter paused. Because of course, everything good was somehow secretly terrible. That’s just how Parker luck worked. “Wait, what about the Avengers? They’ll find out who I am. And that...wouldn’t be pretty?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Already thought of it,” he said. “Who do you think I am, kid? We’ll use vocal modifiers, you won’t take off the mask, I’ll say Peter’s staying with Ned until all the chaos blows over. That it’s not ‘safe at the compound’. And Natasha will help. Everyone believes Nat. Plus, then the Avengers can help us figure out who attacked you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh...okay, okay,” Peter took a deep breath, settling back to lean against the headboard. The arrow wound didn’t even hurt anymore, and he was sure if he lifted his shirt and the bandages he would find barely a scratch. “So when do we leave?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“As soon as we can, Pete. Doc says you’re all clear to go,” Mr. Stark said. “I’ll have someone check you out at the compound later.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Okay, but...Mr. Stark, there’s somewhere we need to stop on the way.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _\------_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _With his mask on, Mr. Stark’s hand on his back, and a whole lot of anxiety, Peter walked through the glass doors. MJ lived in a fancy-ish building in Queens, where the lobby was dingy but there was at least one grumpy, unhelpful doorman there at all times. Today he sat at a cracking marble desk, feet kicked up, leaning back in a rickety black office chair that squeaked loudly when he swirled around to face them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Who?” the man grunted, not looking up from his paper. The paper plastered with Spider-Man’s face all over it. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Jones,” Mr. Stark said. The man looked up, taking in the sight of Tony Stark standing in his lobby with Spider-Man, who was just in a mask and his civilian clothes. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“A'ight,” he gestured for them to continue on. From his thick accent, he was a native New Yorker and saw weirder stuff than this all the time. This probably wasn’t even in his top ten. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Peter and Tony made it to the elevator and pressed the button for the eighth floor. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“So, this girl is your…?” Mr. Stark asked. He had changed into a crisp Armani suit and put on expensive sunglasses that hid the bags under his eyes. His whole posture was leaned forward and tense as if hunched under the weight of what was happening around them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, it’s uhm...complicated,” Peter said, fidgeting with his hands. The elevator was painfully slow and bumpy, with lights that flickered every few moments. A moth fluttered overhead, wings heavy, trying to find a way out of its trap. He missed Friday. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Right. Teenagers,” Tony scoffed. “You’ve seen what she said last night?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No. Just snippets,” Peter said, fighting a smile. Honestly, he was sure that if he watched MJ’s ‘interview’ he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing, and then Mr. Stark would ground him for real. Anyone who unashamedly called Captain America a ‘dick-head’ on live television got a gold star in Peter’s book. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“The girl should get an award,” he said. “She made Pepper angrier than my 2008 incident.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _‘2008 incident’, otherwise known as ‘I am Iron Man’, otherwise known as Peter’s middle-school alarm clock, not that he’d ever tell Tony that. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“That’s MJ,” he shrugged. They had been stiff like this all morning, unsure of what to say or do, so much floating around in their heads. Peter just kept circling back to the fact that someone had taken his blood. Someone was doing _something_ with his blood. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The elevator finally ground to a stop, and they clambered out and over to the apartment. Mrs. Jones was already standing there in the doorway, hands on her hips, dressed in her business clothes, looking like she was about to flay Mr. Stark alive. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And _what_ pray tell, are _you_ doing here?” she asked. Peter had met MJ’s mom exactly twice and had subsequently decided that she was the scariest woman on the whole planet. Madeline Jones was a prominent shark of a lawyer, and a single mother of two, who also happened to make the best pasta Peter had ever tasted. She was pretty much superwoman. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _And she may have liked Peter Parker, but she sure as hell didn’t like Spider-Man. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Madeline?” Tony strode forwards, plastering that 1000-watt smile to his face and shaking her hand. “I’m Tony. Nice to meet you in person. Could I come in to talk with you?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, you did your talking, Mr. Stark,” she said. “45 minutes of your talking this morning. I don’t need any more of you today.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Please, miss,” Tony was still smiling, gripping one of her hands in both of his. “This is a national emergency, I just want to make sure that your daughter is safe.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“She’s safe, alright,” Ms. Jones drew her hand away. “Or she would be if you hadn’t brought _him_.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _She jerked her chin towards Peter, who had subconsciously placed himself behind Mr. Stark and out of harm’s way. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ah. Yes,” Tony said. “Sorry about that. You know how kids are, he just needed to see she was alright. No harm, no foul.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mom, who’s there?” MJ called from inside the apartment. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No one!” Ms. Jones called back. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Please, miss,” Mr. Stark tried again. “I know he’s caused a lot of chaos, but this kid wouldn’t hurt a fly. He sure as hell won’t hurt your daughter. Five minutes?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“...Fine.” Ms. Jones looked Spider-Man up and down. “You’re looking pretty sprightly for a guy who just got shot.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Super-healing, Ma’am,” Peter said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hmph,” she beckoned them inside. The apartment had high ceilings and white walls, covered with old photos and bookshelves. Peter could see that reading was a family passion. They were led to the kitchen, where MJ and her older sister Gayle sat at a small table playing a game of cards. “Girls. We have...guests.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _As soon as MJ met his eyes she was out of her seat and flinging herself at him. Peter staggered backward but caught her, wrapping his arms around her middle. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hey! You’re okay?” he asked into her hair. She smelled like lavender and old books. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Am _I_ okay?” she drew back. “You’re such an idiot. Yes. Are you?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I mean that arrow was a real pain but other than that,” he shrugged. “Just regular superhero stuff. Nothing a little TLC won’t fix.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _MJ rolled her eyes. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mmhm,” Ms. Jones was pulling MJ away from him. Peter felt his cheeks heat. “Maybe my daughter will tell me _why_ she thought it was a good idea to kiss a vigilante on live television?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Because a mob following around Spider-Man isn’t safe,” MJ crossed her arms and stared her mother down. Peter thought she was the bravest person ever. “And I fixed it.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Michelle Jones. You take that back,” she said. “You did not fix it! You made it so much worse!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“The mob stopped following him! Think of what would’ve happened if those guys had attacked him in the middle of that crowd!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“But you didn’t know that! You were just being stupid!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Mr. Stark was inching slowly closer to the door, looking pale and slightly shell-shocked. That was the effect that Jones women had on people. Gayle was still sitting at the table, shuffling the cards and humming under her breath like she dealt with this on the daily. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Stark. You come back here!” Ms. Jones pointed one utterly terrifying finger at him. Mr. Stark gulped. “You told me you were going to take safety precautions. What did you do?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh,” Mr. Stark straightened his tie. “I just did the same thing I did for Spidey. Blocked her from all web searches, took all of her personal info offline. No one will be harassing you anytime soon, Miss.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Good. Thank you,” Ms. Jones said, then looked at her watch. “It’s been five minutes.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _No one moved. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mom-” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It’s been five minutes. You can let yourselves out,” she said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _MJ huffed, looking back over at Peter. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“...You’ll stay safe, Loser?” she asked in a voice that was uncharacteristically soft. “Promise?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I promise, MJ.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _\------_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Returning to the Avengers compound with his Spider-Man suit on, decked out in weird clothes over it, was a strange experience. Tony had insisted that he had to change his wardrobe if he wanted to fool anyone, and lent him an old, ratty leather jacket, AC/DC shirt, and bought him a pair of ripped jeans and red converse. Peter felt like he was wearing a stage costume. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They drove in, pulling upfront. Peter could see all the chaos happening on the front lawn- Asgardians carrying bags and baskets of all of their belongings, boarding they’re gigantic spaceship to fly to Norway so they could start colonizing._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Peter watched as Mr. Stark made eye-contact with Loki (_Loki_!!), who grinned and flipped them both off. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ugh, why do all the weirdos come to _my_ house?” Mr. Stark got out of the car, putting a hand on Peter’s back and leading him inside. “Don’t look at him, Pete. Don’t give him the satisfaction. Alright, you know the drill?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I know the drill,” with the vocal modifier his voice was deeper, a little tangier. Like he was a college student and not a high schooler. Like he had done some bad things and gone to a lot of crazy parties. It was more than a little weird. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Mr. Stark led him through the halls of the Avengers Compound until they neared the boardroom. Apparently, Spider-Man had caused such a ruckus that they had to have an official press strategy meeting. Oops?_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’ve got your back, kiddo,” Mr. Stark whispered in his ear as he opened the doors. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Being greeted by the entire Avenger team’s eyes on him was a lot more stressful when he had a dangerous secret to hide. A dangerous secret that was in plain sight. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Finally! We’ve been waiting,” Miss Potts was sat at the head of the table, leaning over a tall, intimidating stack of papers. “Come sit.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes, team, this is Spider-Man,” Mr. Stark said as they took their seats on either side of Miss Potts. On Peter’s other side was Natasha, and she just looked him up and down- like she had no idea who he really was. “Spidey, this is the team.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“‘Sup?” he greeted. He was all Spider-man right now. No more self-conscious Peter Parker. “Like the beard, Cap’n.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Steve Rogers just raised one of his eyebrows and gave him a thoroughly unimpressed look. To them, he must have looked like a stupid, reckless college kid who had no business running with the Avengers. Who was just causing them unnecessary trouble. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Stark, why did you recruit this child?” Sam Wilson broke the awkward silence. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He’s not a child,” Tony snapped. “And he’s perfectly capable, he just ran into some...trouble last night. Tell your story, Underoos.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, yeah, I’m Spider-Man, I was bit by a radioactive spider. I look out for the little guy. I can bench press like 50 tons and-”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Not your origin story, Spidey. Last night.” Mr. Stark shot him a tense, slightly annoyed smile. Peter felt bad, he really _was_ causing the man gray hair. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“_Sorry_. So yeah, the press just started _mobbing_ me,” Spider-Man told them all what happened in great detail, using wide hand movements and excited gestures. He told them how MJ had shown up and offered to get the press of his back. How he had been shot out of the sky, attacked, a sample of his blood taken. The whole ordeal. “And now I’m here.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hm,” Mr. Rogers leaned forward, forearms braced on the table. “That attack...did the men have any logos on them? Describe the uniform. Anything you can remember, son.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“All black,” Peter squinted, eye slits moving along with him. “Definitely a uniform, but no logos. Maybe bullet vests? Oh, and they all had these vocal modifiers and goggles, and hoods. But the modifiers looked kinda like muzzles. Mega-serial killer vibes.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Muzzles?” Captain Roger’s face was dark. For the first time, Peter could understand that this was a man who could kill, who could hurt, who was a fugitive. “Nat…” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Natasha looked down at her hands, then over to him, assessing. Her eyes were flat and dead like a shark’s. This was not the same woman who had trained with him two days ago. This was the Black Widow. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Tell me more about the attack itself,” she said. “How they fought.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It was like…,” Peter struggled to describe it. Looking back on last night was like trying to make out a half-finished Polaroid. “It was perfectly planned. They didn’t have weapons. They dodged all my webs. And they said...they said, ‘come with us and no one gets hurt’. Y’know, typical villain stuff.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Tony, why would they want him?” Captain Rogers asked. Peter didn’t know who ‘they’ was but Mr. Stark didn’t look too happy about them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Rogers, if they really do have a vial of his blood,” he shook his head. “This kid is one of the most powerful people I’ve ever met. If they find a way to engineer more of him…” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The Captain shook his head, staring at the hand he had resting on the table. The hand that was wrapped in a tight, angry fist. Peter fidgeted uncomfortably. He couldn’t help picturing that hand wrapped around Mr. Stark’s throat. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No,” Rogers said. The whole room was tense in silence, realization hovering over them. What was the only thing in the world that could make Captain America this mad? “No. It won’t come to that. We’re going to stop them.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Captain...who’s ‘them’?” Peter asked. His voice was weak._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hydra,” he finally met his eyes. “Don’t you worry, son. I’m not going to rest until every last one of them is dead.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _And with that, Peter Parker’s summer got a lot less fun._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading and sticking with me, please leave your thoughts down below <3
> 
> Yesterday it became official that Spider-Man is no longer a part of the MCU. This is very upsetting, and it's hard to know what exactly it means for the future. But let's not focus on that. Let's focus on the fact that we have an amazing, loving community of authors, artists, and creative minds that isn't just going to disappear overnight. Tom Holland is still our Spider-Man, and we'll always have the five movies he made with Marvel and Tony Stark. The past isn't just going to be erased with Sony and Disney's deal dissolving. And yeah, we don't know what's coming in the future, but that is both a good and a bad thing. I love this community so much, and as Tom put it, "It’s been a crazy week but I want you all to know from the bottom of my heart that I love you 3000". 
> 
> \- V
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> (Also I realize my italics stopped working halfway through this chapter but nothing will fix it. Oops?)


	7. You Have a Thing Against Clocks Now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And Hydra’s never come into contact with him?” Natasha asked. 
> 
> “No. He’s the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” Tony said. “The most high profile thing he’s done is take down a giant metal big-bird at Coney Island.” 
> 
> OR
> 
> Peter definitely has a thing against clocks now, and Clint Barton has a realization.

As soon as the conference was over, Peter had gone to his room. Ran, more like it. Away from Steve. Tony sat there with the others for a long time after Pepper left too, talking strategy and recent-sightings, play-by-plays, trying to understand the enemy. It was a war room. 

And yeah, Tony had known, objectively, that Hydra was Steve’s ‘big-bad’. Had known that Hydra was why Captain America even existed. But seeing Steve speak about something with such a malice in his eye, such hatred on his tongue was...well, it was terrifying. 

When Steve had come out of the ice he was distant with them, he had always been distant with them. Holding them away from his past at an arm’s length. When they got too close he snapped- that’s what happened with Barnes. And now here they were, in the thick of it. 

“I thought I had snuffed all of the main branches out,” Steve curled his fist, eyes gazing beyond the walls to some other place. To some other time. “They always come back to haunt me.” 

“There’s been under the radar activity since the Avengers disbanded,” Natasha said, gazing at the hologram stats that floated around them. “I just didn’t think they had any power. That’s obviously incorrect if they’re pulling off things like this.” 

“Well? How is this any different from our arms dealer busts?” Clint asked, he had his feet kicked up on the table and was absent-mindedly twirling an arrow. Tony wanted to leave. 

“Couldn’t be more different, Barton,” Steve shook his head. “These people...they’re monsters. More monsters than any of the aliens or robots we’ve faced. They corrupt, and they hurt, and they’re only purpose is to control. They’re the worst of humanity. Don’t underestimate that.” 

The silence echoed through the room. Not one of them moved, or spoke, or even looked at the Captain. Clint and Natasha, the spies, were having a silent conversation with their eyes. Sam, next to Tony, was buttoning and unbuttoning his sleeve cuffs. Thor stared out the window, Wanda at the table, Vision at the door. Bruce cleared his throat. 

“Alright,” Natasha said. “Let’s not blow this out of proportion. All we need to do is find whatever branch is still active and move from there. Tony, do you have any idea what they would want with Spider-Man’s blood?” 

Tony had spent more than enough time freaking out about _that_. Since he watched Peter Parker get shot out of the sky and bleed out in his arms as they sped through Manhattan. The truth was if he let himself think about it too long that panic attack he had tried to stave off would come in full force. But then again, he _had_ thought about it, and there were so many reasons why someone taking Peter’s blood was the absolute worst-case scenario. 

“For Hydra to want his blood,” Tony shook his head. Deep breaths. “They would need to know his powers- and no one knows his powers. No one knows what- or _who_ he is. So either they do or...or they have a very good idea. You don’t want an army of Spider-Man’s running around. Kid doesn’t even understand how powerful he is- he’s not even fully human.” 

“The serum,” Steve said. “That’s been Hydra’s focus since I took down Schmidt. They want to recreate it. Nearly did a couple of times.”

Tony sniffed, scratching at his cheek. Nope. He definitely wasn’t going to mention that his mother and father had been assassinated for that very same serum. Nope. 

“Well we know it’s possible,” he said instead. “Who’s to say all they needed was the kid’s blood?” 

“How young is he?” Sam asked. 

_How young is he?_

That was what kept Tony up at night. 

“Young.” 

“Jesus,” Sam sighed. 

“Hey, hey,” Bruce held up a hand. “Let’s just ask him some questions, right? If someone knows who he is he would know?” 

“He would have told me,” Tony shook his head. “He would be freaking out about it. Like...right now.” 

“And Hydra’s never come into contact with him?” Natasha asked. 

“No. He’s the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man,” Tony said. “The most high profile thing he’s done is take down a giant metal big-bird at Coney Island.” 

“I’ll help you talk to him,” Natasha stood, beckoning to Tony. “And Steve, go do some training and calm down.” 

He held the door for Nat and followed her out and remembered just how lucky he was to be on her good side. 

“Thank you, Nat,” Tony tightened his tie. She glanced over at him out of the corner of her eye. 

“It’s not for you. It’s for Peter,” she said. “I’m a professional people reader, and that kid is as good as it gets.” 

“Don’t I know it.” 

“They’re going to figure it out, you know,” she said. “They’re oblivious but not stupid. Clint’s already got it. You can dress Spider-Man up as much as you want but he’s still Peter Parker. And they all think he’s your son. But he’s sixteen. And a superhero, that you hand-picked and groomed.” 

That was what kept Tony up at night. 

“Clint figured it out?” 

“He’s a spy, he knew it from the moment Spider-Man walked in the room.” 

“And when they find out will they leave?” 

“They can’t leave. But they’ll want to.” 

\-------

Peter didn’t want to feel this way. 

Like he was drowning. 

If he closed his eyes he would have sworn he was underwater, icy liquid snaking its way down his trachea, filling up his lungs. He had nearly drowned before, he knew what it felt like. 

But he wasn’t, he was just laying in bed, drumming his fingers against his chest. He could feel his lungs rising and falling, his heart pulsing and beating. He was, for all understanding, perfectly fine. 

Perfectly fine. 

An odd set of words to put together. Perfect suggested that he was as good as he possibly could be. Fine also suggested perfection, he guessed, but had come to mean in the common vernacular a so-so middle ground. Not good. Not bad. Fine. So was he just especially good at being fine? Was he perfect at that, at least? Was he winning at something? 

“I need help.” 

“Why’s that Peter? You seem in fine condition to me,” Karen said. 

Peter flung his mask to the other side of the room. 

He groaned, rubbing at his eyes until he saw static and stars. The clock on the wall was too loud. 

_tick, tick, tick _.

Peter was about five seconds away from screaming. 

_tick, tick, tick_. 

‘I’m not gonna rest until every last one of them is dead’. 

_tick, tick, tick_.

A Nazi-terrorist group had his blood. A Nazi-terrorist group had his blood. 

_tick, tick, tick_. 

The closed arrow wound in his side panged. 

_tick, tick, tick_. 

He could feel his heartbeat in his fingers, drumming under his skin. His blood drumming under his skin. 

_tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, tick , tick, ticktick, .ttick tick tickticktickitfit-_

The clock crashed to the floor and shattered. Peter blinked at it. At his outstretched arm and the web floating lazily to the ground, catching in the sunlight streaming through his windows. Oh.

“Kid?” Tony and Natasha were standing in the doorway. “You have a thing against clocks now?” 

Peter sat up quickly. 

“Just the annoying ones,” he chuckled nervously. Breaking clocks didn’t exactly scream _dealing with it_. Mr. Stark was looking at him funny as he took a seat next to him on the bed. Nat crossed her arms and stood in front of them, taking in Peter’s suit and the Spider-Man mask crumpled against the far wall. “Do you...need anything?” 

This felt like an intervention. 

“Just some answers. Is there any time you might have caught Hydra’s attention?” Natasha asked. Mr. Stark rested a hand on his shoulder. 

“N-Not that I know of?” Peter shrugged. “I mean they’re kinda not so secret anymore, right? With you dumping all that info onto the web. We studied some of it in class. Weren’t they destroyed?” 

“That’s kinda their thing, Pete,” Tony said. “Cut one head off two more come back. Really obnoxious.” 

Peter wracked his brain. A division of Hydra that either had resurfaced or never gone away. One with the scientific ability to do...whatever they were doing to his blood. Not just that Illuminati-type government controlling stuff they had had going on. Ned was convinced that Hydra _was_ the Illuminati but that was a conversation for another day. And Peter definitely wasn’t going to ask Captain America that. 

“...Do you know what they’re doing to my blood?” 

Mr. Stark sighed through his nose, looking like he could use a long nap and some coffee. 

“We think they’re trying to recreate the super-soldier serum,” he said. “They have a long history with trying to do that.”

Oh, god. Peter could picture it. An army of Spider-people running around New York, destroying everything and wreaking havoc. It would be apocalyptic. 

“But we can stop them, right? We can-we can find them and stop it?” 

“That’s the thing,” Natasha said. “Right now they’d only have enough to use your blood in one dose, presumably. That can’t accomplish much.” 

“But,” Peter leaned into Mr. Stark, feeling suddenly faint. “What if they come back for more?” 

He felt Tony tense, and when he looked he saw that he was pale, staring at him with wide eyes. 

“Then I’ll protect you,” he said. “We’re the Avengers, kid. It’s gonna take more than a few crazy vampiric Nazi’s to get past us.” 

“Mr. Stark, am I dreaming?” Peter sighed helplessly. He wanted to be dreaming. Did other sixteen year old’s have to deal with Nazi’s coming for their blood? Or was that just a him thing? 

“I wish, kiddo,” he nudged his shoulder. 

Nat’s phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out- a sleek black thing with a cracked screen. 

“Would you look at that,” she said. “We have a four-hour block scheduled with Vogue tomorrow. They’re focusing on you, Tony, but all of us are going to be highlighted. This will be fun.” 

“Vogue?” Peter asked. 

“Yeah, we’re doing that 73 questions thing,” Mr. Stark said. “Pepper’s idea. We have rehearsal tomorrow and the real thing the day after. Spidey’s gonna be in it.” 

Peter made a face. He really didn’t understand how doing an interview for a fashion magazine was going to help them gain any points in the public eye. It wasn’t like it would be terribly family-friendly. Peter wondered how the interviewer was going to deal with the challenge that was The Avengers. 

“Try to stay away from the team,” Nat said. “They’re beginning to catch on, I think. Or they will soon.” 

Lovely. Just lovely. That was really what Peter needed right now. 

“I’m sorry I broke your clock, Mr. Stark,” he said. Tony put an arm around his shoulders. 

“Hey it was being annoying,” he said. “You know how we hate it when clocks are annoying.” 

“Shut up.” 

“What? Did it offend you? Did it steal your mask? Is that why that’s thrown over in the corner?” 

“It was just-just being…”

“Annoying?” 

“So annoying.” 

“So if that Flash kid annoys you again can I do what you did to that clock? Is that what you’re telling me?” 

“_Mr. Stark_.” 

———

Peter didn’t leave his room until long after all of the Avengers had gone elsewhere. From what he had heard dinner was a tense, silent affair. Just the faint clinking of forks on plates and wine glasses ruffling against shirt cuffs. 

The kitchen and living area was dark, outside still catching its breath in the wake of the Asgardians. The great lawn beyond the windows had disappeared, just a sea of black glass interrupted by flickering golden kitchen lights and his own pale reflection. 

His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since lunch- an apple and some cheese slices. He had spent the entire afternoon working on summer homework and texting Ned and trying to ignore the world. Peter would have gone to the lab with Mr. Stark but the man was too busy dealing with Hydra related chaos. He sighed. 

Footsteps.

No danger. 

Peter turned and standing there in the hall that bled into the communal area was Clint Barton. 

Spider-Man had his mask on but he was dressed in Peter Parker’s pajamas. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Mr. Barton strolled in, hands in his pockets. It was odd to see him dressed in a t-shirt and jeans and not his super-spy getup. Spider-Man shrugged. 

“Nothing. What are _you_ looking at?” 

A challenge. 

Mr. Barton hopped up on the island, tossing a nectarine from the fruit bowl up in the air. 

“A kid angsting the hell out of a perfectly good evening?” he said. Peter ruffled. 

“What the hell’s your problem? I’m just looking out a window. Do you not look out windows?” 

Peter would never be rude to an Avenger. That was all Spider-Man. 

Peter was just having a very, very shitty day. He didn’t want to put up with all this crap anymore. Yesterday someone had tried to kidnap him and taken his blood, he had gotten a girlfriend, now Captain America was on a murder mission on his behalf to kill the Nazi’s on his tail and, oh yeah, Peter had to hide his identity from earth’s mightiest heroes. 

“So what’s got your panties in a twist, Peter?” 

Of course he knew. Peter made his way over to the kitchen island and plopped down in a bar stool. _Of course_ he knew. 

“It’s stupid,” he sighed. 

“Don’t worry. 90% of the stuff I do is stupid,” Clint said. 

“I just didn’t expect this summer to be so insane. I mean I guess that was pretty idiotic- I’m staying at the Avengers compound. But it’s all gotten out of hand so quickly.” 

“Yea, it's not every day you become roommates with the earth’s most dysfunctional superheroes.” 

“I should be freaking out over the Avengers,” he said. “Not literal Nazis trying to steal my blood.” 

“Hey kid, don’t sweat it. We’ll protect any child of Tony’s- as obnoxious as Tony is,” Clint said. 

Peter looked down at his hands. 

“I’m not Mr. Starks son…,” he said. “That was just a cover-up.” 

Silence. Peter didn’t dare look up. Was Hawkeye going to freak out on him? 

“Ok, who are you then?” Was all he asked. His posture remained casual, his eyes clear. He wasn’t mad, or if he was he knew how to hide it. 

“I’m from Queens,” he said. “I live with my aunt but she’s in California right now. I help Mr. Stark in the lab and he helps me with hero stuff. I’m going into junior year.” 

“How’d you get into all this shit? You seem like a sweet kid. The hero life...it’s not what it’s cut out to be.” 

“I know,” Peter said. “But I can do amazing things. And if I don’t use my gifts and then people get hurt it’s because of me.” 

“Well you’re doing a lot better than me, I can tell you that,” Clint chuckled. “I didn’t even finish high school. Joined a circus.” 

“A circus?” Peter asked, brows scrunching. “I didn’t know that.” 

“Nah, I don’t like the public knowing anything about me,” he said. “Causes issues. Just look at Tony and that whole mandarin thing.” 

“I mean….he did kind of ask for it,” Peter laughed. “It was really stupid. You can be a lot more chill about it.” 

“Oh what, you don’t think it’s a good idea to tell a supervillain your address on live TV?” 

“He’s Tony Stark what did you expect.” 

“Touché,” Clint said. “How did you two even meet? You’ve got him wrapped around your finger. The Tony I knew hated kids.” 

Peter shrugged. 

“He showed up at my apartment and told me he needed help fighting Captain America,” he said. Clint made a face. “No no, he was helping me. Before he came along I was running around Queens in pajamas. This was a definite upgrade.” 

“Mm. Still, don’t like the idea of a sixteen-year-old superhero,” he said. “You’re not much older than my kids. What about when you got powers?” 

“I was almost fourteen,” he said. “Field trip to Oscorp gone wrong. This spider had broken out of this like animal testing room, I guess? It bit me. I got sick. Then I had powers. Simple.” 

“Yeah, simp-...” Clint’s face fell. Brow furrowed. “Oh. Ohhh my god.” 

“What? What’s wrong?” 

“Wait a second. Peter _Parker_, right? And you said Oscorp?” 

“...yes?” 

“Oh god. I need to talk to Tony. I need to-I need to go.” 

“What are you talking about? Wait-wait come back!” Peter called after Clint as he raced towards the elevator and out of sight. 

But he didn’t come back, and Peter was left in the low light with the black glass and the empty common area. 

There was a clock ticking on the wall. 

Peter stayed until it chimed midnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first posted this story a little over a week ago and wow, I am blown away by all of your support! Your comments made me so happy! It means so much that so many of you are enjoying my story because I am having a ton of fun writing it. I'm super excited to share the next chapter with you because I get to do 73 questions with Vogue and you have no idea how many of those videos I've watched in the last few days for reference. Plus...It may or may not go according to plan. Oops. 
> 
> As always thank you so much for reading, lots of love, happy back to school season, and leave your thoughts down below! <3<3<3


	8. Don't Tell Him. He's Innocent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Vogue, my name is Spider-Man,” he winked at the camera. “I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women.” 
> 
> OR 
> 
> Vogue comes to the Avengers compound. Everything will go smoothly. (Yeah, right)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was super challenging to write but ended up being so much fun. You have no idea how many 73 questions with Vogue videos I watched for this. Please enjoy, and feel free to yell at me in the comments

“No no, just connect those wires,” Bruce pointed and prodded at the metal slab they were working on. It would hopefully be a functional hoverboard when they were finished, and a present for Peter’s seventeenth birthday. “That’ll give it the magnetic boost it needs.” 

“Where’d you learn all this new tech, Brucey?” Tony asked. It was late but neither of them could sleep, both groggy-eyed and too stressed to talk about anything that mattered. 

“Are you kidding? Space!” 

“Boss, Legolas is requesting access to your personal lab,” Friday interrupted.

“Legolas?” Bruce asked. 

“No. Definitely not. Tell him he’s banned for life!” Tony said. “I’m still traumatized from last time I let him in.” 

“Boss, he’s saying it’s an emergency.” 

With all the chaos around him, as much as he didn’t want to, Tony couldn’t ignore it. 

“...Fine. But tell him if he breaks anything he’s buying!” He said. The elevator dinged open, Clint racing out of it and over to the long white table he and Bruce were seated at. “Woah, woah, woah, careful! This isn’t Walmart!” 

“Tony,” and Clint’s voice shut him right the hell down. He had rarely heard the man so serious. This wasn’t a time for jokes. “_Parker_.” 

“Uh…” Tony glanced at Bruce’s confused face. “What?” 

“Peter _Parker_!” 

“Yes? Some nice alliteration, I know. Cut to the chase.” 

“Do you not…?” Clint looked over at Bruce. “Peter is Spider-Man. And he isn’t Tony’s son.” 

“I’m sorry _wh-_,” Bruce started. Tony’s heart picked up, he took a deep breath. 

“No time for that!” Clint said. “I worked for S.H.I.E.L.D since I was a teenager, Tony. I know all of the agents that passed through. The ones that aren’t on any databases. There were these two grown ones, a couple. Richard and Mary _Parker_.”

Tony just let that sink in for a minute. 

Nope. 

Still didn’t make sense. 

“Pardon?” he squinted. 

“Richard and Mary Parker!” Clint stressed. “They worked in the science division, but they were really skilled double agents. Did some work over at Oscorp, infiltration. They were eliminated by Hydra in 2006. Plane crash. They were wiped off all databases in case Hydra ever got their hands on it because they were working on _really_ dangerous stuff. Serum stuff.” 

_What the fuck_. 

Peter’s parents had died in a plane crash in 2006, hadn’t they? Private plane. Up somewhere in Eastern Europe. 

Oscorp? 

Why would they need to infiltrate Oscorp? But Peter had been bitten on a field trip to Oscorp, _hadn’t he_? His powers were like some weird jacked-up version of the Serum, weren’t they? Like animal testing gone wrong…

“Oh, god,” Tony hunched further in on himself. His mind was spinning out of control, skidding on ice, stomach roiling and bubbling. “Oh my god.” 

“What are you saying…?” Bruce asked. He had recovered remarkably quickly from the information dump laid at his feet. Why wasn’t his brain overloaded like Tony’s was? Why did Tony feel like he was going to throw up? 

“I’m saying that Peter’s spider bite might not have been a freak accident.” 

“Friday, team meeting. Team meeting _now_!” Tony stumbled out of his seat, tripping over himself. 

“Boss, it’s midnight-”

“I don’t care- team meeting! And tell Rhodey to get on the first flight back!” 

\-------

When the six other Avengers arrived, sleep rumpled and confused, Tony was met with a frustrating lack of motivation. 

“Why am I awake right now, Stark?” Sam asked, flopping down into a seat. 

“Because it’s an emergency,” Tony was pacing, fidgeting with his hands. He had to move, had to move, had to _do_ something. 

“Tony, what happened?” Steve asked. Tony wanted to punch him in his perfect face- who the hell looked that good fresh out of bed? 

“This couldn’t wait until morning?” Wanda sighed. “I had just fallen asleep.” 

“Your adrenaline levels are unusually high,” Vision said. 

“Yeah no fucking duh, buddy,” Tony whirled on them all. “Clint just tell them what you told me. Uh...censored version. You know what I mean.” 

“Ok, the kid doesn’t know this but- I knew Spider-Man’s parents,” he said. “They were agents for S.H.I.E.L.D working on some Serum related experiments. They did infiltration missions at Oscorp. They were wiped out by Hydra on a private plane somewhere over Eastern Europe.” 

A moment of silence while tired minds worked quickly to unravel the new information. Tony needed them to _move faster_.

“Oscorp? I’ve heard that name,” Steve said. 

“They’re a competitor of Stark Industries,” Tony said. “I always knew they were bad but not...Nazi bad.” 

“And you believe this...Oscorp is affiliated with Hydra?” Thor asked. “That this could be the branch we’ve been searching for?” 

“It makes sense,” Natasha said. “Didn’t they do all sorts of crossbreeding experiments in 2016? Got investigated by the military.” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” Tony said. “Animal experimentation. They must have been testing whatever formula the P- uh...Spider-Man’s parents came up with on animals to make sure it wasn’t deadly.” 

“And one of them escaped and got- uh...Spider-Man,” Bruce stuttered, barely missing the kid’s name. “That’s what happened to me. Experiments gone wrong. Genetic mutation.” 

“I as well,” Wanda said. “The Serum gone wrong.” 

“So it’s true,” Steve said. “If they have Spider-Man’s blood they can create more of him? More super-soldiers. You say he’s stronger than me, but how strong?” 

“He was crushed by a building and lifted it, fell from a plane, got stabbed and burned and then slept it off,” Tony said, his hands were shaking. That had been the worst night of his life. The panic had gnawed at his heart until he was certain it would stop beating altogether. “And he saved the guy he was fighting. The guy was using Chitauri tech.”

“I lied,” Sam said, staring at the table. “I didn’t beat him in Germany. He wiped my ass. He wiped the _Winter Soldier’s_ ass. Caught that arm like it was nothing.” 

“From my calculations,” Vision said. “Spider-Man could break even Vibranium if he really wanted to. If he had the proper training.” 

“We can’t let Hydra use his blood,” Steve shook his head. “We _can’t_.”

Tony thought of Captain America’s shield, sitting forgotten under tarps and boxes in the lab, half crushed. 

“We won’t,” Tony said. “I know most of you seem to think I’m only concerned for myself but I’d do anything for that kid. You can be damned sure I’ll protect him.” 

\-------

“Oh honey, stop, you look fine,” Pepper smoothed out the shoulders of his blazer. “Deep breaths.” 

“Pep, I don’t want to do this. Why are we doing this?” Tony held her soft hands in his. He wished they had time to actually finish planning their wedding. They still didn’t have bridesmaids or best men, they hadn’t picked a cake or a color palette or anything. All they had was a venue and a whole lot of guests. 

“Because the media is calling for your heads,” Pepper said. “Because they’re scared.” 

“I feel like Marie Antoinette.” 

“Oh, poor baby,” Pepper ran her fingers through his hair. She looked absolutely radiant in the bright sun. They were waiting outside for the team from Vogue to arrive. “I’ll have someone make you a cake.” 

“With Iron Man on it?” 

“Yes, I’ll make sure he has a giant head just like you.” 

“I love you,” Tony kissed her. 

“You’re silly.” 

“I can’t wait to marry you.” 

“Mm. Me neither.” 

He wished he could stay here forever in her arms but unfortunately, they had other responsibilities. Several sleek black cars were pulling up the long drive, rolling to a stop in front of the main building. Tony smoothed out his blazer and t-shirt, Pepper smiled dreamily, looking perfect as always. 

A tall, lean man hopped out, surrounded by a team of people holding cameras and notepads and nervous smiles. 

“Joe! Thank you so much for coming,” Pepper shook the tall man’s hand, smiling at the others. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.” 

“Pleasure’s mine, Miss Potts,” the man- Joe- said. He was remarkably composed for a man who had just been granted access to the top-secret Avengers compound. But Tony guessed he dealt with this kind of thing all the time. “It’s fantastic to be here. This is my team, they’ll be scouting around, seeing what rooms work, prepping the space. Thanks again for calling us.” 

“Of course! Call me Pepper. This is my fiancé,” Pepper beckoned for Tony to come forward and tucked an arm around his waist. “And no, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t bite.” 

“That’s what you think,” he said. “Tony. Welcome to the super-top-secret Avengers Compound. With your...cameras. Have they all signed NDA’s?” 

“I’m sure we don’t have to do that,” Pepper said. “Please come inside.” 

The Vogue team looked around the entrance atrium in wonder, taking in the high ceilings and glass walls. It was filled with high-tech screens, holograms, display cases, and lounge couches. 

“Wow this building is absolutely incredible,” Joe said, gaping around at the space. His team was furiously writing things down, taking pictures and test shots. “Who designed it?” 

“S.H.I.E.L.D,” Pepper smiled. “But that can’t be in the video. This building does have a very very cool and unique feature that we can show off, though. Tony?” 

“Mm. Friday?” he called. 

“Yes, Boss? How can I assist you? 

“Woah!” Joe and the others jumped. Tony thought he might have introduced them at some point but he hadn’t been listening. “What was that?” 

“That’s Friday, my AI, she helps me run the compound. And my suits,” Tony said as they boarded the elevator. “Ask her anything.” 

“Alright,” Joe said. “Friday, who’s your favorite Avenger?” 

“Spider-Man,” she said without hesitation. “But Boss told me it’s rude to choose favorites.” 

“Mutiny!” Tony said. “Friday, I thought you worked for me?” 

“Spider-Man turns off lights when he leaves rooms, Boss.” 

“That’s true,” he said. “Are we gonna be using all these questions?” 

“Yes, we’ll definitely go off whatever happens naturally,” Joe said. 

“Alright. Wanna meet the Avengers?” 

“That would be awesome, Sir,” he laughed. 

“I gotta warn you, they’re all assholes. And stressed. They’re stressed assholes. Wait no, that sounds weird.” 

“_Tony_,” Pepper said. “Sorry about him, he doesn’t like cameras.” 

“That’s fine,” Joe said. “You have total control over the final product. We’re here to work with you.” 

That was a first. Usually, reporters wanted to find the absolute worst angle and spin it. Not work with him. 

The elevators dinged open and they all spilled out onto the common floor. It was still pretty early in the morning, and seated at the table was Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson, wearing sweats and t-shirts, talking in low voices over coffee and toast. They jerked up when they entered, taking in the cameras and the strangers. Looking for any threat. 

“Stand down, dumb and dumber,” Tony held up a hand. “These are the guys from Vogue. They’re scouting for tomorrow.” 

Sam still looked tense but Steve melted into an easy smile, standing to shake all of the team’s hands. 

“Pleasure to meet you. Steve Rogers,” he said. “I’ve watched your videos, they’re very clever!” 

“Really?” Joe looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his skull. “That’s incredible. I’m Joe. This is my team- Maria, Jake, Will, Pete, and Cathy.” 

Oh. So they did have names. 

“So nice to have you all,” Steve said. Tony felt that familiar urge to punch him. If he squinted, he could still see the bruise from that day in the gym when Tony had acted on that urge. “You’re some of our first guests here.” 

“Oh no, we’ve had guests here just not while you were off having a midlife crisis, Rogers,” Tony said. Steve made a face but didn’t lean into the dig. 

“How many of the Avengers will you want in the video?” Pepper asked. 

“Well, no pressure, but we were hoping to get all of them in,” Joe and Maria nodded at each other. “You said you wanted this to boost publicity. I think that would be smart.” 

“Yes, lord knows we need it!” Pepper laughed. “I was thinking we’d do the gym and then some of the gardens? How does that sound?” 

“Sounds absolutely perfect!” 

“Boss, Spider-Man is requesting your presence in the lab,” Friday interrupted. 

Crap. Peter still didn’t know...anything. Should Tony tell him? That his parents were murdered by Hydra? That his parents were S.H.I.E.L.D agents? That Hydra knew exactly who he was? That they didn’t know the extent to how much the spider-bite was an accident or planned? 

“Tell him I’m busy, Fri,” Tony waved a hand. He would put off that conversation as long as possible. 

“He says he found your hoverboard and may or may not have broken a window.” 

“Goddammit. Tell him he’s grounded.” 

“He says he was already grounded, Boss. Unless you want him to web himself to the ground.” 

“Yes-yes! Have him do that!” Tony spun around to face the others. “Sorry, I have to go deal with a hyper-active spider child.” 

“I’ll give you the rest of the tour,” Pepper smiled forcefully at the others. Tony would be getting a piece of her mind later. 

He wasted no time in rushing to the elevator and slamming the button for his lab. When it stopped he was met with a sight of Peter sitting on the ground, surrounded by shattered glass, covered in little cuts, hoverboard laying a few feet away. 

“Hi Mr. Stark,” he gave a pathetic little wave. 

“Kid, what did you do?” Tony speed-walked over, picking up a couple of stray grease rags as he went. He crouched down, pressing them into a large cut across Peter’s palm. He was still in his pajamas, hair curly and ruffled by sleep. 

“I just came down here to make some more web-fluid,” he said, shrugging. “And then I kinda leaned on that...was that a hoverboard? Anyway, I leaned on it and I guess I must’ve activated it or something because my hand got stuck to it and then it zoomed out the window and then right back and hit me in the head and then I just kind of laid here for a few minutes, and I think I have some glass in my hand cause-”

“_Peter_, kid, deep breaths, you’re fine,” Tony said. And the kid was fine. Just sitting there with a big bruise on his forehead, wide, slightly dazed eyes and a cut across the bridge of his nose. No Hydra trying to steal his blood, no crazy Avengers, just a frankly hilarious lab accident that Tony would definitely be using for blackmail. He laughed a little. “Only you could pull something like this. C’mon, up we go. That’s it.” 

Tony led him over to a stool, pulling down a medkit and resting his palm on the table. The kid wouldn’t need stitches, just as many Hello Kitty Band-Aids as Tony could force on him and maybe some actual bandaging. 

“Man, I’ve really outdone myself this week,” Peter laughed. “I mean really it’s been...eventful.” 

“You can say that again,” Tony said, using a pair of tweezers to dig the glass shards out of the kid’s skin. Peter didn’t even flinch, like he did this all the time. But that was a conversation for another day. 

Once again Richard and Mary Parker and Oscorp drifted up into his head. No. Not right now. Peter was already stressed enough. 

“Mr. Stark...last night Mr. Barton ran away and said he had to talk to you? What was that about?” Peter asked slowly, like he was walking on ice. He winced a little as Tony lost control of the tweezers. Blood oozed out and all over both of them. 

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Tony pressed the grease cloth to his hand again. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine!” Peter said. “Just a little blood.” 

More awkward silence as Peter’s question hovered in the air. Tony could tell the kid was getting uncomfortable- not wanting to press but needing answers. How much should he tell him? 

“...We found out that Oscorp has a connection to Hydra,” Tony settled on. Nothing about his parents. “And that the spider that bit you was probably jacked up on experimental Serum formulas.” 

“..._Oh_,” Peter’s eyes went comically wide. “Oh that’s….that makes so much sense. And that’s how they know who I am and that I’m super powerful! Security cameras!” 

“I know, it’s freaky, but don’t worry, kid, the brainy bunch are on the case-” 

“No no! I’m not worried anymore, Mr. Stark,” Peter smiled, shoulders sinking like an invisible weight had been lifted off them. “We know who they are now! Or we at least have an idea, right? That means we can break into Oscorp and get my blood back.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Tony said. “We can’t just break into a multi-million dollar company decked out in armed tech because we feel like it. Especially if they’re a front for Hydra. We’ve got to do some more investigating.” 

“What if we just like...exposed them?” Peter asked. “Like make some Youtuber do a conspiracy video that’s just a little too accurate and then it gets investigated? Shane Dawson? I am 100% sure he’d be down. He’s always spilling tea.” 

“Do you speak English?” Tony shook his head. “And no, we can’t ‘expose them’. Then we’d all get assassinated.” 

“People still do that?” Peter blanched. “Yeah let’s...let’s not get killed.” 

“That is the goal.” 

“...Mr. Stark, when did you make a hoverboard?” 

“It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday,” Tony said. “But _someone_ is clumsy as all hell.” 

“That was...that’s for me?” Peter’s voice went all high and wobbly. “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” he said. “Please, cut the waterworks. You’ll just make it with me, and then it’ll be even cooler.” 

“Thank you so much,” Peter smiled. It was big and watery and made his whole face light up. 

Tony looked away. 

Once again, his thoughts drifted to Richard and Mary Parker. 

\--------

It was the big day, everyone was in place, Tony had spent forty minutes in hair and makeup and he was ready to roll. 73 questions. Just 73 rapid-fire questions and this would all be over and done with. Tony was determined to do it this time, third take. Then they could get back to business. Hydra, and Spider-Man, and Serums.

Tony straightened his blazer. He was waiting in the atrium for Joe to knock on the door. Steve, Nat, and Sam were placed in the kitchen. Clint was probably in the vents. Then they would go to the gym and they would do some training for the cameras. Then Tony would be joined by Pepper and they would walk them out, easy peasy. 

Apparently, in all of the videos, there was a guy who asked a stupid question about his wife. That question would go to Steve- Captain ‘PSA’. 

Easy peasy. 

The bell rang. 

Tony opened the two huge, glass double doors to find Joe and the entire camera crew waiting. He plastered on his best press smile. 

“Hi, Tony Stark!” Joe smiled. “Mind if I ask you 73 questions for Vogue?” 

“Sure thing, come on in!” Tony said, leading them further inside. 

“So you’ve been out of the public eye for a while. How are you doing these days?”

“I’m doing.” 

“Ha. Ok so tell me, what’s your favorite color?” 

“Red,” Tony said. That one was obvious. Maybe this wouldn’t be so tricky. “I’m Iron Man.” 

“And how’d you get that name?” 

They walked towards the elevator. 

“Papers gave it to me. Pretty inaccurate though. It’s a gold titanium alloy.” 

“I...don't know what that means,” Joe said as they all piled into the elevator. “Where are you taking me?” 

“Well you want to meet the Avengers, don’t you? Friday, kitchen.” 

“Right away, boss,” Friday said, she sounded happy to be showing off. Tony smirked. 

“Woah! Who’s Friday?” 

“She’s my AI.” 

“Alllright. And what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever heard about yourself in the press?” 

“That I got drunk in New York and ended up in Monaco,” Tony looked right at the camera. “That’s a lie. I woke up in Tokyo.” 

“Wow, some life,” Joe said. “What’s the best party you’ve ever been to?” 

“Thor’s birthday party!” Tony smiled at the memory. “2013, all of us on Asgard. It was wild. I think someone fucked a horse. I think Loki _was_ the horse.” 

Joe laughed. 

“What’s the best part of being a superhero?” 

“I get a super-girlfriend.” 

“Oh, are you busy wedding planning?” 

“Are you kidding? Have you read the news right now?” 

The elevator doors dinged open and they all walked out. Steve, Nat, and Sam kept eating breakfast like this was all normal, putting on a show. 

“And what do the Avengers eat for breakfast?” 

“Protein smoothies, maybe some toast,” Steve said. “I eat six full meals a day for my metabolism.”

“Cereal,” Sam said.

“Coffee. Black,” Natasha crossed her arms, leveling the camera with a glare. Joe had the good sense to look intimidated. 

“Captain America, what should I do with my wife for our anniversary?” the weird man that was always in the videos popped out from behind a counter. 

“Buy her flowers and chocolates, take her dancing, somewhere classy,” Steve winked. 

“Buy her a Porsche. Go to the Bahamas,” Tony said. 

“Awesome!” the man dove out of the frame. 

“Tony, what’s your all-time favorite food?” Joe asked. 

“Coffee.” 

“Coffee?” 

“Yes.” 

“Alrighty then. Can you tell me a secret about one of your fellow Avengers?” Joe asked. 

“Clint uses women’s perfume,” Tony said. Clint, right on cue, swung down from the ceiling in his full Hawkeye get-up. Tony admired the man’s commitment to a dramatic entrance. 

“Tony wears women’s shoes,” he smiled, resting an elbow on his shoulder. “He’s actually really short.” 

“Traitor,” Tony slapped his elbow away from him. 

“You must know each other really well,” Joe said. Tony made a face- _unfortunately_. “Where do you go to spend time together?” 

“It’s where Mr. Dorito spends all his ‘downtime’,” Tony waved a hand vaguely at Steve. “Lead the way, Capsicle.” 

“He means the gym,” Steve said, leading them to the elevator. Clint, Nat, and Sam stayed behind, looking thankful to be off-camera. Tony wished he could do the same. 

“Friday, gym?” He asked. She didn’t respond like he thought she would but the elevator started moving. Odd. 

“Tony, suits or jeans?” Joe asked. 

“Suits.” 

“Leather or lace?” 

“Leather,” Tony winked. 

“Pasta or pizza?” 

“Pizza. I’m a New Yorker.” 

“Home cooking or dining out?” 

“I have a chef.” 

“What’s your fondest memory from childhood?” he shifted. Tony liked that about this interview- it was light but interesting, simple but fun. 

“When my dad got so drunk he passed out and left me the hell alone,” he said. Joe’s face drooped, even the camera woman’s face faltered. They recovered quickly. Steve cleared his throat. 

“And what’s your best recent memory?” 

It was Tony’s turn to pause. Maybe when he had taken Harley out for lunch all these years later and they had spent the entire time throwing straw wrappers at passersby and playing horrible things on the jukebox until they got kicked out. Maybe when Rhodey and he had flown to Disney World and walked around until tourists started to figure out they were the real deal and not actors. Maybe that vacation with Pepper where no one had bothered them for two whole days, going on remote safaris in Africa, staying in bungalows. 

Then his mind settled on a simple afternoon after the Vulture fiasco, when Peter had first seen the lab. His eyes had been bulging out of his skull, mouth open wide, scared to touch anything. And in that afternoon Peter had assembled an entire, functioning robot without so much as blinking. It was then that Tony truly realized that this, this here in front of him was the future. This was his legacy. 

“When Victoria’s Secret invited me to walk their runway for my 50th birthday,” he said instead. The elevator was moving especially slow. 

“And did you?” 

“What, you don’t think this ass would have made national news? Please, buddy.” 

“What’s Victoria’s Secret?” Steve asked. Tony deadpanned at the camera, Joe clenched his lips to keep from laughing. This wasn’t in the script.

“Don’t tell him. He’s innocent.” 

“You think I’m innocent?” Steve laughed. “I was an art student in the ’40s.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see you do one single creative thing, Rogers.” 

“You’ve never seen Steve do any art?” Joe asked. 

“I once saw him chug three gallons of milk without taking a breath. Got it on camera too. I call that art.” 

The elevator dinged open. 

The others had really outdone themselves. Thor was taking aerial laps around the gym, Bruce cheering him on and timing him. Wanda and Vision were having a psychic battle, hurling things across the space and creating a pretty spectacular light show. 

And Peter, Peter was swinging from the ceiling, dodging around Thor and objects flying through the air. He kept doing insane flips that made Tony’s breath catch in his throat but the kid always landed upright. Tony smiled, and not that fake press smile- a real one. 

“Wow, what’s happening?” Joe asked. 

“This is a typical morning,” Tony said. “All of us are in the gym at some point. Well, not me, I’m usually in my lab. Y’know, making the tech for the entire team.” 

“I help!” Spider-Man whizzed by, loop-de-looping through the air. 

“He’s my favorite,” Tony grinned at the camera. “No contest.” 

“Thor seems in good condition after the Asgardian conflict,” Joe said. “How are you all making sure not to get stressed?” 

Tony snorted. Y’know, super dignified. 

“We’re very stressed. Yesterday, Wilson was so distracted he stuck a full chopstick in the coffee grinder and broke the whole thing.” 

“And who’s paying for a new one?” 

“I’m Tony Stark. I fixed it.” 

“And how does Tony Stark do some training, when he wants to?” 

“Look and learn, Internet!” Tony clicked his nano-holder watch and the entire Iron Man suit assembled around him. He flew up and blasted Thor out of the sky. 

“You’ll pay for that, Stark!” Thor flew back up, lightning crackling and sparking around him. 

“Oh, no, Greased Lightning, I’m getting my revenge for capture the flag.” 

They went at it, lightning fists making dents in his suit. Each thunderbolt rocked the room, blocking out all other noise. An old Mark would have been dented and done with but with nano’s, it just reassembled wherever it was damaged. It was virtually impossible to destroy. He thought he might have heard some cheering from down below, maybe some screaming.

“It’s fine! We do this all the time!” he called down. 

“_Stark_,” Thor stopped short, gazing, horrified, at the ground below them. “Look.”

And he did look. 

Broken windows. Glass shattered across the training mats, men in black. 

Blood. Who’s blood? It was everywhere. 

Fighting. Fists and guns and red and yellow light and-

Cameras still rolling. 

Peter. 

\---------

Peter Parker was having the time of his life. The team from Vogue had told him to just swing around until they asked him to stop so that’s what he’d been doing. Aerial flips, flying leaps, soaring acrobatics. Wanda and Vision were cheering him on from below, ready to catch him if he fell. 

It wasn’t every day he got to train with _The Avengers_. 

Mr. Stark and Thor were battling in mid-air. Peter noticed the interviewer- Joe?- looking a little lost. He swung down. 

“Hey, Vogue, my name is Spider-Man,” he winked at the camera. “I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women.” 

“Nice to know,” Joe smiled at him, grateful for the intervention. “So, Spider-Man, are you okay? That arrow wound looked pretty serious.” 

“I’m perfect! Everyone knows this,” Spidey waved it off. 

“True. You were missed in New York. What have you been up to this summer?” 

“I would tell you but I’d have to kill you,” he said, 100% serious. Joe’s face fell. “Nah, I’m messing with you, man. I had to deal with all these idiots.” 

“So, what is Spider-Man’s favorite food?” 

“Spider-Man’s favorite food or the other guy’s favorite food?” he asked. “Well I love churros but I’m also a huge sucker for Thai.”

“Do you have a favorite restaurant?” 

“Prachya Thai, my uh...family and I go there,” he said. 

And it was then, at that exact moment, that a giant, flying, black ship crashed through the window wall and spun out into the middle of the gym. 

_Wait what?_

Peter blinked, shielding the camera crew. Was this planned? 

Shattered glass flew everywhere, Vision covered Wanda, Bruce dove behind a rack of dumbbells. Tony and Thor kept fighting. This...this was planned, right?

His Spider-Senses were oddly static-y. It was a low pressure at the base of his skull, fuzzy, vague, confused.

Well, the ship wasn’t moving or anything. Man, Vogue’s stunt teams really went all out. 

Peter turned back to face the camera. 

“Uhh, what’s happening?” Joe asked. He looked just a little too concerned. 

“Oh it’s fine, just Avengers business,” Peter laughed it off. 

A door on the ship opened, and men in black started spilling out. 

Oh, _shit_. 

Suddenly all the lights turned off, leaving only whatever was shining from outside. They were all bathed in red as dull alarms flashed. 

“Well, that’s it for today folks!” he said cheerfully to the camera. 

“ROAAAAAA!” apparently the Hulk had woken up. 

_Shit_. 

“And in case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight!” Peter let his smile drop. “Joe, get your team out of here. See that side room over there? There’s a fake tree and behind it is a panic button, it will get you to a safe room and from there call the Army. Okay? Okay.” 

“Got it!” Joe sprinted away, pulling his camera-people along with him. 

It was time for Spider-Man to face the music. 

And so slowly, hesitantly, he turned around. 

It seemed that Hydra had come to call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so yes I know people were mad at me over the cliffhanger last chapter and, admittedly, this is about 1000% worse. No worries, next chapter will be with you soon! And lemme tell you, it's a whopper. I'd love to know your thoughts on this massive, twisty turny chapter down below! Thank you so much for reading! <3 <3 <3
> 
> -V


	9. It Will Be Easier if You Don’t Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are in need of confirmation,” she said, voice flat, eyes flat. “You will not resist.” 
> 
> “Guh-” Peter tried to push her off of him but she didn’t move. She was as strong as he was. 
> 
> OR: 
> 
> Hydra comes to call, and Peter meets an adversary.

Spider-Man swung into action, immediately webbing the door of the ship closed so no more Hydra soldiers could get out.

“Kid, stay away!” Tony yelled as he blasted his repulsors. “You’re the target. Stay the hell back.” 

Peter nearly groaned allowed as he slammed his fist into a tall man’s head- he was the target, like hell he wasn’t gonna fight. 

“What’s happening?” Steve asked over the comms. “Elevators not working!”

“Then get here from outside! If Hydra got in you can do it!” Tony growled, ramming a soldier’s head into the ground as Thor threw himself at five men at once. “Code Green everyone!” 

Oh yeah, The Hulk. 

Peter had never actually seen Dr. Banner’s alter-ego but damn, was he terrifying. The Hulk had picked up the entire remains of the black ship, smashing it repeatedly into the ground. 

Wanda and Vision were trying to restrain the rest of the soldiers. How many were there? There had to be 25 at least in the room and outside on the lawn he thought he saw more arriving. 

Peter had hidden himself up in a corner of the aerial course, trying to get a grasp of the situation before jumping in. 

Things of note:

1.Hydra had somehow found out their location  
2.His Spider-Senses weren’t working right  
3.He was the target  
4.The door to the ship, which was webbed shut, which was half-crushed, was open 

The base of his skull was throbbing, pulsating, as if something living had gotten lodged there. His vision had gone foggy, as if he had been staring into the sun for too long. He squinted to shield himself from- 

Something wrapped around his wrist, he was falling through the air, body shuddering as he slammed into the gym mat.

Pain, red and angry, someone was stabbing him, right through his skull, right through his skull- 

There was a lithe figure on top of him, dressed in all black, a muzzle covered her mouth, crystal blue eyes surrounded by black paint, blonde hair a mess around her shoulders. She couldn’t have been older than him and Peter knew deep in his bones that _she_ was causing this blinding pain ricocheting around his skull. 

“We are in need of confirmation,” she said, voice flat, eyes flat. “You will not resist.” 

“Guh-” Peter tried to push her off of him but she didn’t move. She was as strong as he was. 

His mask was roughly torn off his head, and suddenly the lights and the sounds and the smells and the _everything_ was so much worse. Peter nearly fainted, body going limp and shaky. 

“Who are you?” he rasped, trying once again to throw her off him. Where were the others? Why was no one helping him? Why had he been taken down this easily? 

“Your equal,” she said. “You will come with us, Peter Parker.” 

“Don’t think so, lady!” he grunted, catching her off guard and hurling her across the room. He rolled up into a crouched standing position, sending three more guys flying out of a window. “Mr. Stark I need help.” 

“Kid, we’re a little busy outside, they’ve infiltrated the grounds,” Tony said, voice gritted and static-filled. Oh right, Mr. Stark had fitted a comm into his suit collar in case anything like this ever happened. It was supposed to be a worst case scenario only. “Come help?” 

“I-I don’t...she took my mask,” Peter swallowed thickly, trying to keep down the bile rising, bubbling in his throat. The room was spinning. His Spider-Senses were betraying him. 

The gym was nearly empty except for the carcase of the spaceship and a few unconscious bodies strewn here and there. Peter stood there, taking in the smoke and broken glass and the battle raging outside.

The man at his feet was dead, eyes glassy, staring upwards, never to smile or speak again. Blood seeped from his cold, cracking blue lips. He looked just like Ben. Did this man have a family? Had Peter killed him? 

He vomited behind a rack of yoga mats, bracing himself on a pole for support. With shaky hands he wiped the acid from his mouth. 

“Kid. Kid. _Kid_ I swear to god, answer me!” Tony was yelling on the comms. Peter could hear the other Avengers yelling orders at each other, Captain America shouting battle formations. “Peter! Who took your mask?!” 

“Peter? Where’s Peter?” 

“Peter’s here?! I thought he was at a friend’s?” 

“Get him out of danger!” 

The few Avengers that _didn’t_ know his identity yet were all yelling and screaming. Peter braced himself on the wall, the room around him pulsating with his spine. 

“Peter, who took you mask?!” Tony yelled. “Are you alright? Gonna need an answer, buddy.” 

“This-this girl,” he rasped. “It was a girl in black. Blonde. She was _strong_. Mr. Stark my spidey-senses are freaking the hell out I’m gonna-”

He leaned over to puke again, stomach clenching and spasming. He choked on it, holding his head and groaning. 

“Urghhh,” Peter sniffed. “She was so strong.” 

“Thank you,” the girl said. 

Peter spun around, Spider-Senses screaming. 

She clocked him in the face, breaking bone and flesh, breaking his comm into a million pieces. Peter reeled backwards, head whacking against a dumbbell that was belted against the wall. Stars swam before his eyes. 

“What the hell is your problem, man?” Peter croaked, jumping up to kick her in the chest. She went flying back. “Can you turn off whatever you’re doing to my head? Not polite.” 

She stood, shaking herself off. 

“I’m not doing anything,” she said, eyes still that haunting, blank shade of blue. Peter felt as if she was staring straight through him. “It’s just me.” 

“How is that-”

Something shot out of her wrist, latching onto his and dragging him across the floor towards her. Webs. _Webs_. 

It was then that Peter realized he was epically, monumentally, and quite severely, fucked. 

She was like him. 

They had used his blood. 

She was like him. 

Ok, panic attack later, Parker- _think_. 

A kick to the head, she was binding his hands and feet in thick, gooey webbing. It wasn’t as strong as his was but it was stickier. 

“Can’t we like, talk this out? You look like you’re my age, right? Can’t we just-” 

She hauled him over her shoulder like he was nothing. Peter blanched, struggling against his restraints. No, no, this was definitely not going well. 

“It’ll be easier if you don’t fight,” she said, lugging them over to the window. 

“Yeah, I don’t know that’s not really my style,” he struggled some more- it was futile. “What’s your name anyway- do you even have a name? Or are you some kind of lab baby?” 

“Gwen.” 

“Ok-ok we’re getting somewhere,” Peter swallowed. “So Gwen, why did you uh, join Hydra?” 

“It’d be easier if you stopped talking,” Gwen swung them out of the window, latching onto a tall tree and propelling them into the central battlefield. 

The lawn had been destroyed, Avengers everywhere, explosions and Hydra soldiers and just chaos. A cloud of dust had settled over everything, lit up by lightning and red and yellow light and repulsor blasts. It was too much for his senses. Gwen faltered. 

“It hurts doesn’t it?” Peter spoke quickly. No one was looking at them. “I know it hurts but I can teach you-” 

“Shut up.” 

The key with Spider-Senses was to act on impulse. To have no plans. And so, with all of his considerable strength Peter flipped them all the way around and onto the ground. Peter used the rocks to cut through the webs on his arms, desperately trying to saw through the ones on his legs. 

“Someone help!” he screamed. Gwen stood, muzzle gone, blood dripping from her temple. 

“Guess we’re doing this the hard way, bug boy,” she growled and dove at him. 

They tangled on the ground, punch after punch and kick after kick, neither quite gaining the upper hand. She was stronger and faster than anyone he’d ever faced. She was just as strong and fast as him. 

She rolled them over, straddling him, holding a rock over his head. Peter spat blood in her face and shoved her off of him. 

“Peter!” Mr. Stark was flying in. Oh thank god, Mr. Stark was flying in. Gwen leapt out of the way with the grace of a dancer as he fired his repulsors at her. “Who’s the chick?” 

“Gwen!” Peter ran to his side as he landed on the ground. He felt the slightly ridiculous urge to hide behind Iron Man and his armor. To run away. 

“Gwen?” 

“I don’t know- crap she’s coming back, she’s coming back, Mr. Stark-” 

“Don’t worry, Petey, I’ve got you,” Iron Man shielded him. Gwen was racing at them, faster than any human would be, face set and furious and bloody. 

And then Steve Rogers, in the form of a running blur, had barreled into her and knocked them both across the battlefield. 

“Holy shit,” Peter rasped. “Mr-Mr. Stark, she’s like me. They-they used my blood. She’s like me.” 

Iron Man’s cold, unforgiving mask stared him down. 

“She’s like you?” he asked. It was the first time he had ever heard Mr. Stark so scared. Peter nodded. “Stay with me. Don’t leave my side.” 

“I won’t.” 

He couldn’t even put up a fight. Not surrounded by Hydra agents and feeling as if his head was about to disconnect from his spine and trying to avoid the girl who had been cursed with Spider powers. 

Together, they ran back into the action. 

This was nothing compared to Berlin. To be actually fighting with the entire Avengers team- it was the craziest, best thing Peter had ever experienced. It would have been amazing if not for Hydra wanting to, y’know, capture him and drain his blood. Like frickin’ vampires. 

Most of the Hydra soldiers had been taken out by now, with just a few stragglers here and there. There were about ten more of them which were frantically trying to restart their ship. The Avengers had already begun to clean up. They dealt with worse than this all the time. Peter eyed Natasha, who was chasing the Hulk into the forest, where he was happily ripping trees out of the ground. 

But Gwen was still battling Mr. Rogers. 

And she was stronger than him. 

She was winning. 

Peter stood with Mr. Stark a couple of feet away, watching as she dodged every punch, every kick, every one of Steve Rogers best fighting moves. And he was a skilled fighter- one of the best Peter had ever seen. 

Gwen was better. 

Clint and Sam came to a running stop next to them. 

“Peter Parker? _You’re_ Spider Man?” Sam looked him up and down, taking in the blood and the gore and the puke that covered his suit and face. “Tony why the hell’d you let your kid-“ 

“He’s not my son,” Iron Man said. Peter could hear the glare. “He’s just my responsibility. You see that girl? She’s Hydra’s new spider man. Spider Woman. Whatever.” 

“So they used your blood,” Clint said. “Sorry, Kid. Damn, she’s kicking Steve’s ass. Should we…?” 

“It has to be me,” Peter said, wiping some of the blood from his mouth. “I’m the only one who can stop her.” 

“Like hell you are,” Mr. Stark put a hand on his chest, pushing his him back. 

“Mr. Stark. She’s my equal. I know how her powers work, and she just got them,” Peter said. “My spidey senses were freaking before but now I can take her.”

“Not to be a debbie downer, Spidey but you look like you’re about to pass out,” Sam said. “Maybe listen to the old man on this one.” 

Gwen caught the Captain in an uppercut. 

“A little help!” Thor yelled from somewhere across the battlefield, where he, Vision, and Wanda were locked in a fight with the remaining soldiers. The ones with chitauri weapons. 

“No. I’m going in,” Peter steeled himself and before anyone could stop him he jumped into the fight. “Eat my feet, spider-girl!” 

He leapt at her in a flying kick, catching her right in the cheek and knocking her to the ground. 

“Don’t you ever go away?” Gwen growled as she righted herself. That blank stare was gone, replaced with a fiery, burning kind of anger. She was covered in blood and dust and webbing and that just made her scarier. 

“Told you- not my style!” 

She punched- he caught it. He kicked- she jumped. Punch, kick, swerve, duck. Punch, kick, swerve, duck. She seized his wrist and flipped him straight over her head, slamming his back into the ground. 

Peter felt something crack and wheezed. Someone was calling his name. Mr. Stark was calling his name. 

No. He could do this. 

Peter kicked out her feet, making her fall to the ground beside him, chin slamming hard against a stray rock. 

“You don’t have to do this!” He gritted his teeth, holding his aching ribs as he stood. “I can help you.” 

Gwen rose, panting, blowing hair and blood out of her mouth. 

“No one can help me, least of all you,” she said. “But you will come with me.” 

“Nuh uh! Play date’s over, kids!” Iron Man barreled her out of the way. 

Peter felt that now familiar sensation, like his head was floating away from his body, hanging on by a thread. He swayed. He was falling- 

Strong arms caught him and held him upright. 

“None of that, Son,” Mr. Rogers said. “You need to stay awake.” 

Peter looked around, the Avengers were cleaning things up, handcuffing Hydra soldiers, and chasing the last ship which was flying away. Mr. Stark had flown off to chase Gwen as she escaped through the forest. Blood and dust and craters littered the previously pristine front lawn. Now it was strewn with dead bodies. 

It was then that Peter realized exactly what the Accords were for. Exactly what they protected. The Avengers had broken no monuments or killed any civilians. But there would still be body bags. 

“Mr. Rogers?” he blinked up dopily at the man. The Captain was covered in dust, barely a scratch on him, beard a thicket of grass and dirt. “Please don’t be mad.” 

“You’re too young to be here,” he said. “You could have gotten hurt. You did get hurt.” 

“Yeah but…” Peter blew a raspberry. The whole sky was spinning now, a kaleidoscope of Steve’s nose and a cloud that looked kind of like the Eiffel Tower. “I’m fine.” 

“Uh huh,” Mr. Rogers hauled him up so her was carrying him. Peter would have protested but honestly it wasn’t worth the effort. 

“I think I’m gonna pass out now.” 

“Not the best idea, son.” 

“Don’t call me son.” 

And yes, perhaps it was out of spite, but Peter was grinning up at Steve’s worried face when the world faded black. 

———

“Disaster. Disaster. I don’t know what else to say!” Pepper threw her hands up. 

They were all crowded around the briefings table, still dirt and blood covered and shaken. Tony had been screaming at Helen Cho in the hallway five minutes ago to make sure his kid was still breathing. Peter was fine, she assured him. Just a shock to the system. 

He was still unconscious in med bay but apparently that wasn’t a point of concern. 

The team from Vogue had apparently called the entire fucking army, so now a whole squadron and a very put out Joe were currently signing a thousand NDAs. 

“To be fair, it could have gone worse,” Tony said. Pepper whirled on him, mouth open. Apparently the wrong thing to say. 

“It could have gone worse?! Please, tell me how it could have gone worse, Tony!” 

“She has a point. Poor Peter got the short end of the stick,” Clint said. “And now we have a mess to clean up. Your mess.” 

“About that,” Steve’s voice was low and deadly and strangled and everything Tony hated. His fists were clenched in the table and still covered in dusty HYDRA blood. Red, white, and blue, he thought, half deliriously. “You recruited a fourteen year old kid to fight the Avengers. To live and train with the Avengers. You’ve done a lot of stupid things, Tony, but this just might be the stupidest.” 

“Oh yeah? And which one of us faked enlistment papers and got into the army through experimental drug use? You’re not so golden, Rogers!” Tony crossed his arms. He felt like a child. Steve made him feel like a child. Like his father was scolding him. 

“I didn’t put a child’s life in danger!” Steve roared. 

A pin could have dropped. And really, truly, Tony had never seen Steve this angry. Not in Siberia, not on the battlefield, not anywhere. 

Tony sniffed. 

Peter was not his son. There was no way around it. But he was Tony’s kid- that miraculous, ridiculous thing had happened sometime along the way. Peter was his responsibility. He would be damned if he wasn’t doing his best to protect him. 

Tony stood slowly, staring Steve down. 

“Peter Parker is the one, sole, singular reason why I have any hope for us at all,” he said. It was steady and it was calm. Ready to strike. “He’s better than every one of us combined. When I found him he was fighting crime in a cotton onesie with garbage scrap tech. I gave him protection. And I protect him. Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t care.” 

There were a million more things he could say but for once he held his tongue and reveled in Steve’s silence. 

“We have more important matters to deal with,” Natasha said. “Sit down, Stark. Let’s talk HYDRA.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m working on about 8 million projects right now but here’s the new chapter (let’s just pretend it didn’t take me three months), and it’s a whopper! I deserve any and all yelling in the comments. I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading <3


	10. Deep Breaths, Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Friday, where is everyone?” he asked. “How long has it been?”
> 
> “It has been almost three hours since the incident,” Friday said. “You are in stable and improving condition. Boss and the rest of the Avengers are in the boardroom with Colonel Rhodes and Secretary Ross. Would you like me to tell Boss that you’re awake?”
> 
> OR 
> 
> Revelations are made. A plan begins to form.

Two hours later they were still in the boardroom. The table was stacked with papers and maps and reports, hologram data coated the walls, and juice cartons and empty pizza boxes littered the floor. Tony was sitting in the corner, trying to hack into the most uncrackable section of SHIELD’s database. They had put their arguing aside in favor of hunting for something, anything, to help them. To help Peter.

Peter, who according to his last update, was still passed out in Medbay. But stable at least. God, he had to call May. And Michelle. And Ned.

“Update!” Pepper jerked up from her huddle with Bruce and Thor, staring at her phone. “Ross and Rhodey are here. They’ll be up soon!”

“Ross?” Clint squinted over the top of Wanda’s head. “Fuck that guy.”

“Did Rhodes know about this?” Steve asked quietly. Tony kept his eyes fixed on his computer. Friday was trying to help him break through the code but it needed manual help. God damn Nazi bastards did their job right for once.

“Gonna have to be more specific, Uncle Sam,” he said.

“About Peter.”

Steve was sitting with Natasha and Sam at the head of the table, maps and charts and graphs and stats laid out before them. They were trying to figure out more about this ‘Gwen’.

“Yes, he does. But Ross doesn’t. And you’re going to keep it that way,” he said. “You aren’t going to say a word unless you want that kid taken to the raft in a straight jacket tonight.”

He didn’t miss the way Wanda shivered, hand drifting to her throat as if remembering the aftershocks of her time on the raft. They had locked her up like a dog.

Steve just shook his head and went back to his work. Tony was preoccupied with thoughts of the Parkers, of Oscorp, of Gwen. He would have to tell Peter that his parents had been double agents. That they had been killed by Hydra. The thing was, he had caught a snippet of what revenge looked like on the kid’s face with Steve. He knew what the death of one’s parents did to you. He didn’t want to see revenge on him again.

“The agents we captured are starting to wake up,” Natasha said. “I’ll go interrogate them when you give me the go-ahead.”

“We need to speak with Ross first,” Pepper said. “He’s been hounding Tony about Spider-Man since-“

The door’s to the boardroom flew open and in walked Rhodey and Ross, both dressed to the nines in their military uniforms, and grim-faced. Tony sprang to his feet, disregarding the others, and leapt at his best friend.

Rhodey squeezed him briefly before pushing him back at arm's length.

“Long time no see, Tones,” he smiled tightly, then turned to face the others. “Hello everyone. Let’s all take a seat.”

Once they were seated, and only Ross still stood, Tony took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. It was time to fight. For Peter, for May, for the Accords.

“You’ve all caused quite a commotion,” Ross said. “I would say it’s nice to see us all together again, but I’m afraid that would be a lie.”

“Cut to the chase, Ross,” Clint said.

“Alright, I’ll skip the small talk,” he conceded. “This is a disaster. This is your mess, this is my mess, and we need to fix it. Miss Potts? You’ve done amicably so far, but I’m afraid I’ll have to step in now. Tell me everything you know about the criminal Spider-Man.”

“Criminal?” Pepper raised her chin. “Spider-Man isn’t a criminal, Mr. Secretary. You know as well as I do.”

“An un-logged mutant running around damaging property, leaving webs all over important monuments and obstructing justice? Not to mention endangering civilian lives, and now, the security of the Avengers and SHIELD. That seems pretty criminal to me, Miss.”

“We’ve had this conversation. Do we need to have it again?” Tony stood. “He can’t sign the accords as they stand. He is a minor. If you want him and his family and his school to be the target of attacks then be my guest.”

“That is the price he must pay-“

“No. No. There is no price,” Tony said. “He helps people. He’s young. He’s learning. And that is not the most important issue right now. We have reason to believe that Oscorp is a branch of Hydra. And they have used Spider Man’s blood to create a new super soldier.”

Ross nearly staggered back, mouth open, before he got ahold of himself again.

“Then the new soldier must be eliminated.”

“The new soldier is also a minor,” Nat said. “We don’t have all the information yet. But Hydra obviously does. They have the upper hand right now.”

“The Accords must come first,” Ross spluttered. “People are rioting in the streets! Do you understand how much damage all this has done?”

“Mr. Ross, it was not my people’s choice for our planet to be destroyed,” Thor said. “This was also your doing, you orchestrated the planning.”

“I never said it was just your mistake! I’m saying, people are furious, fights are breaking out, law enforcement is in over their heads. And Spider-Man can do whatever he wants. Whenever he wants. And is now a danger to the Avengers. I’m taking him, Tony.”

No. Tony took a deep breath to stop himself from lurching forwards and punching Ross in the face

“You are not taking him,” Tony said. “That’s not happening. Forget it. All you need to do is help me take down Oscorp. And then we can all sit down and rewrite the Accords.”

“Ross,” Rhodey said gently. He always had the better head on his shoulders. “Listen to him. I understand you’re upset. We’re all upset. Hydra is the greater threat right now. They’ve lasted too long.”

“Ross. We will all sign your Accords,” Steve spoke up finally. “All of us. If we reach terms of agreement. But first, you will help us. Hydra is a parasite. If they create more Spider-people we’re done for. Done for, Ross.”

Ross pinched his nose, one hand braced on his hip. Tony’s heart was thundering so loudly in the silence he was sure everyone could hear it. He had to stay calm, for Peter’s sake.

“You said he was young. How young?” Ross asked.

“...he’s sixteen,” Tony said. His throat was tight. He forced himself not to think of it- of Peter getting the life kicked out of him by a girl his match and equal. Of the sound of his head hitting the rocks.

“Jesus,” Ross swore and collapsed into the chair at the head of the table. “Jesus, Stark. And you let him fight the Vulture?”

“I don’t let him do anything.”

There was a long pause.

“I want to see him. Is he here?”

“Excuse me?” Tony’s heart picked up. “Absolutely not.”

If this bastard thought he was going to fool Tony, he really was an idiot. He would not let Peter be taken.

“If you want me to help, if he really is the hero you claim he is, then he should be at this table,” Ross said. “I will not negotiate with his keeper about information concerning him. He should be here.”

“Ross, you can not trick us,” Wanda said. There was something hard and wicked in her eyes as she beheld him. “You will not be taking him.”

“I won’t take a child.”

“You took me,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” Ross said. Tony was surprised to hear the sincerity in his voice. “I know we all disagree. But if this truly is as dire as you say it is, I cannot help you without the boy here. He is essential. He’s the target, he must know something.”

“He doesn’t,” Tony said. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“Have you spoken to him since the incident today, Stark? No? Alright then. You’ll have him brought here. I don’t care about his identity. We’ll deal with that after. You have my word, and you can quote me on that.”

“Even if I wanted to, he’s still healing.”

“I’ve heard reports of ridiculously enhanced metabolism and healing on that boy. Go on, Stark, ask your AI about his condition,” Ross spread his hands.

Tony weighed the pros and cons, and Peter’s safety, and Accords, and the Avenger's glares on him. He met Natasha’s eyes and she gave him a little nod. Peter would be ok. He would make sure of it.

“Friday, update me on the kid?”

“He has just woken up, Boss,” Friday told him. “His injuries are already mostly healed, and his heart rate is normal. Would you like me to give him a message?”

“Can you have Happy bring him up, please? And have a sandwich brought for him, he’s going to be starving.”

“Will do, Boss.”

Tony stared down at his shaking hands and dared not meet Steve Roger’s eyes.

\-------

Peter woke up, for the second time in four days, completely disoriented and in a hospital bed.

He blinked sleepily up at the ceiling, trying to clear the fog from his head. Everything hurt, numb and tangy all over his body. His arm was tingling like it had been reset, and his brain throbbed with every breath he took.

He was in a private care room at the compound, he knew that much. He had been brought here two other times when the villains he faced got a little too stab happy. He remembered one particularly gruesome fight with Green Goblin where he had had to stay here for a week.

With great effort, he managed to push himself up into a sitting position and prop his pillows up so he could relax. The curtains were drawn but it was still light outside, and his Spider senses were calm. He was in no danger.

Memories filtered back slowly. The black ship, the destroyed gym, the fight with Gwen, the battle with Hydra on the great lawn, passing out in Captain America’s arms, Helen Cho’s worried face over him. For a moment he just sat there, staring despondently at the blankets, trying to make sense of it all. He definitely still had a concussion.

“Friday, where is everyone?” he asked. “How long has it been?”

“It has been almost three hours since the incident,” Friday said. “You are in stable and improving condition. Boss and the rest of the Avengers are in the boardroom with Colonel Rhodes and Secretary Ross. Would you like me to tell Boss that you’re awake?”

“No, no, that’s fine, Friday,” he said. “Don’t bother him. Was the Vogue team hurt?”

“No, Peter,” she told him. “All casualties were of Hydra agents.”

“So it was Hydra then? Did we capture any of them? What happened to Gwen?”

“The agent ‘Gwen’ escaped. We have captured two agents, who are still unstable and just regaining consciousness. They are not cooperating.”

Peter nodded.

May was going to kill him.

“Does the media know about any of this?”

“No, Peter.”

Secretary Ross had been giving Mr. Stark hell over Spider-Man for weeks, and now he was here in the building. Peter tried to steady his breath and dug his hands into the blankets. No. Tony would keep him safe no matter what. Everything was going to work out. Hydra hadn’t gotten any more of his blood.

But they had created Gwen.

“Deep breaths, Parker,” he told himself.

A quick knock at the door jerked him out of his panic. It opened to reveal Happy Hogan, dusty and exhausted and shaking his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, kid,” he said, coming over to his bedside. He clapped a hand on Peter’s uninjured shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Right on cue, his stomach gave a long and loud rumble.

“Hungry.”

“I bet,” Happy said. “Listen, Secretary Ross wants you to be in the boardroom. He’s going to help with Hydra. Tony approved it. How do you feel about going up and joining? There’ll be food.”

Peter still felt groggy and half-awake, still trying to get the taste of blood out of his mouth. But if Mr. Stark wanted him upstairs, he would go upstairs.

“I’m fine,” he nodded. He ripped the IV out of his arm, something he had done many times before, and always made Happy grimace without fail.

“Do you really have to do that?”

His custom healing drugs were still running through his system, so the wound barely had a chance to start bleeding before it disappeared.

Peter swung his legs out of bed and stood too quickly, making his head spin in circles. He stumbled straight into Happy’s outstretched arms.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I can tell them you’re not up for it,” Happy said.

“I’m fine. Just let me use the bathroom and change. Do I need my mask?”

“No mask.” Peter made a face. “Just trust Tony.”

That was all he needed. He would trust Mr. Stark always. Without fail.

Happy waited outside while he brushed his teeth and changed into loose sweats, a black t-shirt, and his converse. His reflection in the mirror was bleak and pathetic. He had healing bruises littering his face, cuts halfway done stitching themselves up. His skin had gone pale and gray. He thought of May and MJ and Ned and his heart panged with guilt.

He hoped the Avengers had handled the reality of his identity calmly. That they hadn’t taken their anger out on Tony. He didn’t deserve it.

He and Happy rode the elevator up to the boardroom in silence. Peter was trying desperately hard to stay calm. He was going to face a room full of the most powerful people on earth, who all knew his identity, who all knew how much he had screwed them all. This was all his fault. If he had been less gullible, less easy, less stupid-

“We’re here. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Happy patted him on the back. They were standing in front of the fogged glass doors to the boardroom that Peter was starting to become familiar with. He rolled his shoulders once, took a deep breath, and walked in.

All conversation screeched to a halt. The Avengers were seated around the table, all with various levels of injury, and looking absolutely furious. Mr. Stark stood immediately and came to his side, eyes scanning him over.

“Pete, I-”

Peter wasn’t listening. He only had eyes for Secretary Ross.

He had seen pictures of him on the news, in class, and he’d heard the stories. There wasn’t a hair out of place, his suit was impeccable, but his eyes.

His eyes were dead and flat like a shark’s.

He made Peter’s spider-senses tingle, low and furious at the base of his spine.

“Mr. Secretary,” he held out a hand. “I’m Peter.”

Ross shook his hand.

“Thaddeus Ross. A pleasure to meet you. The elusive Spider-Man at long last.”

Peter forced a tight smile onto his face. He was squeezing the man’s hand. Thaddeus winced and stepped away.

“You really are a mutant,” he said. “And how strong are you, Peter?”

“Strong.”

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

“You’ve been giving law enforcement a run for their money.”

“I aim to please.”

Ross huffed out a laugh.

“The rumors are true, you really are a brat.”

Peter just smiled, showed all his teeth and grinned.

Ross had the good sense to look disturbed.

“Alright, that’s enough of that,” Tony waved his hands. “Pete, come sit.”

Peter did as he was told and sat between Mr. Stark and Natasha. She patted his hand under the table. The rest of the Avengers were looking at him as if they had never seen him before, and Steve Roger’s eyes bore into him like lasers. All that confidence he had felt in front of Ross vanished. He wanted to slide under the table and disappear.

There was a sandwich in front of him, and two cans of LaCroix. Tony really did know him. He wasted no time in digging in.

“So, Peter,” Steve leaned forward on his elbows. “Today has been...informing. What can you tell us about the agent Gwen?”

Peter couldn’t get her blue eyes out of her head, how piercing her glare was. Her fist colliding with his jaw. His pleas as she dragged him into the thick of the battle.

“Well,” he said slowly, between bites. “She’s as powerful as I am, but not as well trained. She was strong, and I wasn’t prepared for it, but she didn’t have a good handle on her abilities. Her web fluid wasn’t as advanced as mine, but I’m sure it’s getting there. And...well I have this sixth sense thing? I can sense that things will happen before they happen. But when we were next to each other it was all messed up. Like they were interfering.”

“So you’re saying it really did work?” Sam asked. “They created another you?”

“...Yes.”

“Peter, Clint and I need to tell you something,” Tony said. He had turned so he was facing him fully. He had been hit in the cheekbone and a nasty bruise had formed, turning the corner of his eye red. Peter wanted to hurt whoever had done that. “And...you need to stay calm.”

Well, that was never a good sign.

“I knew your parents,” Clint said. Peter jolted around to stare at him.

Agent Barton knew his parents? No. That wasn’t possible. Richard and Mary Parker couldn’t be connected to all this.

“What?” he managed.

“I’ve worked for SHIELD for a really long time, kid,” Clint said. “Your mom and dad were agents. Good agents. And even better people. They worked in the science division for a long time before doing some spy work at Oscorp. I think...I think it was Hydra that killed them.”

Peter sat in silence for a long moment, trying to wrap his head around all this. Tony had a hand on his arm, rubbing soothing circles into his wrist. His parents had worked for SHIELD? His parents had been assassinated by Hydra. His parents-

“My dad was a geneticist,” he said quietly. “May told me...she told me he worked for a big company doing genetics work. This isn’t a coincidence.”

“What do you mean by that, son?” Steve asked.

“I got my spider bite on a field trip to Oscorp,” Peter said. The pieces were clicking together slowly, assembling themselves into a tapestry of gruesome truths. “What if it was on purpose? What if they knew who I was when I visited and they sent it after me? That’s how they know who I am, they-...oh my god. They were testing my dad’s work on me weren’t they?”

“Slow down,” Ross said. “You believe Oscorp gave you these powers? Why would they do that?”

“To test if they worked?” Peter shrugged. “They couldn’t have known how powerful it would make me. And I stepped on the spider as soon as it bit me, so they couldn’t make more. It might have killed me- it almost did.”

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked.

“Uhm…,” Peter ran an anxious hand through his hair. “I got really sick after it bit me. Really sick. I thought I was going to die.”

“How long did the sickness last?” she asked.

“Three days?”

“What were the symptoms?”

“Non-stop vomiting, headache, I couldn’t move, I couldn’t eat, high fever.”

“Friday, keep watch for anyone who matches these symptoms in hospitals,” she said. “Or anywhere. Anything that looks suspicious.”

“Will do, Miss.”

“Pull up what we know about Gwen,” Tony said. His hand was still on Peter’s.

Holograms flashed to life all around the table. Peter’s eyes skimmed across them- pictures of schools and streets and pictures of her smiling face.

“She goes to the Dagley school,” Pepper said. “Very prestigious, on the upper west side. She’s sixteen, with a 4.5 GPA and she’s her class president. She’s been out of summer school for the past two weeks on ‘medical leave’. Can you guess who the other class president is?”

“Who?” Peter asked.

“Harry Osborn,” Pepper said. “Norman Osborn’s son, and the heir to Oscorp. He also hasn’t shown up to the summer program once. Ross, what are our options?”

“Norman is a very difficult man,” Ross shook his head. “He’s been giving me hell for years. We investigated Oscorp a few years back and found nothing overtly suspicious. But his business partner, Mendel Stromm, is a real piece of work. He’s German, also.”

“Hydra,” Steve said.

“Oscorp has been a front for the Nazis all this time?” Tony said. “This is going to do wonders for business.”

“Don’t underestimate them, Stark,” Ross said. “They’ve outsmarted me at every turn.”

“Oh yeah, like that’s such a feat.”

“Stark-”

“Boys,” Pepper held up a hand. “What’s the plan.”

“Well they can’t make more spider people as it stands,” Peter said. “At least...I don’t think they can. They need my blood to do it.”

“Spider-Man,” Ross spoke hesitantly. “What do you know about...the Green Goblin?”

“Oh, he’s an asshole,” Peter said, with a little shiver. Their last showdown had ended with a faceful of snow and millions of dollars in property damage. He hadn’t been active since the Winter, but Peter hadn’t thought much of it. The guy gave him the creeps. “I hate that guy.”

Ross pursed his lips, seemingly mulling something over in his head.

“Stark, get your AI, to pull up all information on Green Goblin.”

Tony did so without question, and the holograms of Gwen shifted immediately to videos and pictures and stats and articles floating above them. One of the videos was of Green Goblin smashing Spider-Man into the Empire State Building. Peter winced.

“What’s this about?” Dr. Banner asked. “I’ve heard of this guy. He transforms like I do, right?”

“We don’t know for sure,” Ross said. “But I have...reason to believe...that he is Norman Osborn.”

Tony coughed, Peter choked on his drink, Rhodey snorted loudly.

“Excuse me, what the fuck?” Tony laughed. “No.”

“That’s...not true,” Peter shook his head. He couldn’t fight his smile. It was too ridiculous to be true.

“Why do you think that?” Pepper asked. “I mean...what possible basis do you have?”

“It’s not confirmed, but it’s been a long-time suspicion and-...just look at this,” Ross sighed. “Friday, play the unaired January ninth 2018 conference please.”

The holograms shifted into one and started playing a video. Norman Osborn was up on a podium, looking smug and vaguely greasy.

“I have done it,” he was saying. “I have done what no man has been able to do before. I have recreated the super-soldier serum. Your welcome, world.

A scattering of applause.

“I will be selling it exclusively to the United States government,” he continued. “But...I felt it was unethical to test it on anyone other than myself. And it was successful. Tony Stark won’t be your only superhero anymore.”

The clip cut off. Peter opened his mouth, closed it, and stared blankly at the table.

“This was never aired?” Pepper asked.

“Never aired,” Ross said. “We intervened. Like I said, he’s a difficult man. He can talk circles around anyone. All the reporters at that conference signed so many NDAs I’m surprised they can even work at all.”

“You’re saying he tried to replicate the serum and turned into some creepy off-brand Hulk?” Peter asked. Ross nodded. The person he had been fighting all this time was Norman Osborn? “Well, what does he have against me?”

Ross spread his hands helplessly.

“God,” Tony rubbed his temples. “Steve?”

Mr. Stark was asking for Mr. Roger’s help. That’s how low this had sunk them.

“So we’re in agreement?” Steve asked. “Oscorp is Hydra. And they need to be brought down?”

Murmurs of agreement passed around the table.

“Alright then,” he continued. “Let’s kill these sons of bitches.”

“Ay ay, Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! An update! This was kind of an info dump before the action kicks up but hey. As always, thank you so much for reading, and leave a comment down below- I love to hear from you!


	11. Challenge Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter had made a lot of mistakes in his life. 
> 
> This just might be the one to get him killed. 
> 
> OR 
> 
> Hero Complex+Impulsiveness+Pride is not a good mix.

“May, I’m so sorry,” Peter said after a long silence. He had started crying ten minutes ago, and a pile of tissues lay uselessly at his feet. “I’m so sorry.” 

He was alone in his room, the light was just beginning to filter through the curtains, turning everything the color of fresh gold. It painted the carpet in great buttery swaths. 

“I know you are, baby,” May said. Peter pressed his cheek to his phone as if he could feel her against him. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you.”

Tony had called May last night, before dinner, and came to the table stormy eyed and shaking. There was no point in arguing. His aunt was coming back. She said she didn’t care if she had to stay at the compound all summer, she just needed to be by his side. But it meant no nursing school. No promotion. 

All Peter’s fault. 

“I miss you,” he said. “I really miss you.” 

“Hm. We’ll get Thai food as soon as I’m back. Five days. That’s all, and then I can give you that big sloppy kiss I’ve been promising,” she said. “Alright. You stay all in one piece till then? You promise?” 

“I promise, May.” 

“I love you, Peter.”

“To the moon and back and everything in between,” he said. That was what she had always told him when he was little when she was tucking him into bed. They stayed like that for a moment, just listening to the other breathe before the line disconnected. 

Peter wiped the tears from his face and hopped in the shower, wincing as he scrubbed at the bruises still littering his body. He really hoped he healed fully before May got back. He was at the receiving end of enough yelling as it was. 

Ned and MJ still didn’t know about what had happened and he couldn’t bring himself to answer their texts. He would let them know once he had fixed all this. Once he wasn’t still knee-deep in shit and sinking. 

He rested his head against the marble and let the water run down his neck. It had been two days since the attack. 

In a way, he wasn’t surprised about his parents at all. But the information left him hollow, wishing for more. He didn’t remember them, so he found he was unable to really miss them, but he still wanted to _know_them. He had thought he had known everything, from long talks with Ben and May and flipping through photo albums. But now…

He knew nothing. 

The plan to start to fix things was simple, really. Tony had arranged a meeting with Norman Osborn for that afternoon, and Nat would infiltrate the labs of the building and look for anything suspicious. Or preferably capture Gwen Stacy altogether. 

The meeting itself had nothing to do with Spider-Man or the serum or Green Goblin. The goal was for Mr. Stark to make it seem like they needed Mr. Osborn’s help with the Accords, with him being such a powerful man and impartial source. It would mean the world if he took the Avenger’s side. All one big distraction to throw Norman off their scent and protect Nat. 

Ross’s only piece of advice had been to feed the man’s ego. 

There was one huge, glaring, shiny flaw in the plan which was that Peter had not been invited. In fact, he had been banned. Strictly. By multiple Avengers, including Pepper Potts. 

There had been an argument late last night. Peter and Tony in the lab, bots, and machines forgotten. There had been yelling.

They had never yelled at each other before. 

Peter didn’t like it.

_Let me protect you_, Mr. Stark had kept saying. _You’re my responsibility, Peter_.

When Peter finally made his way to the kitchen, the light was still low on the horizon, gilding the countertops and illuminating the edges of Steve Roger’s silhouette. The windows were thrown open wide, letting in chilly early morning air, but Mr. Roger’s didn’t seem to care. He was facing away, back bent over something- a sketch pad? 

“Good morning,” he said to Peter. He looked small without his uniform, in a loose blouse and swim trunks. His hair was a mess, and his beard overgrown. Peter felt like he was intruding on something deeply personal. “Did you sleep well?” 

Steve was an odd man, he had decided. He could go from furious to childish in the blink of an eye, raging to gentle, hardened soldier to…

Well, Peter didn’t quite know who this was. 

He knew he had hurt Mr. Stark. That he was Captain America. That he was a man out of time. That he had left Mr. Stark to die in Siberia. That he hated Hydra. That he was trying to do better. 

The pieces just hadn’t clicked yet. He still felt like half a person. 

“Yeah,” he lied. “Did you, Mr. Rogers?” 

“Please, call me Steve,” he said. He wasn’t actually looking at Peter, his eyes were fixed on some point in the distance, on the great lawn. Usually, at this time, Peter figured, he would be in the gym. But the gym was still undergoing repairs. 

Peter busied himself with making himself a bagel heaping with lox and cream cheese and capers and onions. He felt like such a stereotypical New yorker. Sometimes, on weeks where May had picked up more waitressing shifts, they would go down to Barney Green Grass on Amsterdam. Waxy bags, heaping with fresh bagels. Outlandishly expensive, and outlandishly delicious. Peter shook himself out of his longing. He would see his aunt again soon enough. 

“Do you want anything, Steve?” Peter asked. 

“No. Thank you.” 

He sat at the table and watched curiously as Steve drew. It was a bird, perched on a branch, which Peter quickly realized was what he was looking at. The bird was at an impossible distance away, across the great lawn. If he focused, he could hear it chirping. 

“I didn’t know you could draw,” Peter said stupidly. This whole moment felt out of place. It was too quiet, too personal. This wasn’t Captain America. 

Steve smiled at him. 

“I went to art college,” he said. “This little shack in Brooklyn. I rode my bike there every morning and I saved up for new pastels every year. I wouldn’t buy new shoes. Always pastels.” 

“I’m shit at art,” Peter said. “In kindergarten, I failed scissors.” 

“It was my only skill. That and getting in trouble.” 

“That I can relate to.” 

He didn’t know if he liked Mr. Rogers or not. He hadn’t had the chance to really speak with him one on one before. He was hesitant to like him at all. If only for Mr. Stark’s sake. 

“Sorry I’m so distracted,” Steve said. “It’s my hundredth birthday this Saturday and I was just...lost in memories.” 

He shook his head sadly, staring down at the graphite bird in his lap. 

“It’s your hundredth birthday?” Peter smiled a little. “Mr- uh, Steve, we have to do something for it.”

“Nah. Not the right time. Or the right people.” 

“C’mon, man,” Peter said. “Triple digits! Who would you want there? What’s your dream party?” 

Steve looked so far away, smiling vaguely at something or someone Peter couldn’t see. He didn’t answer and went back to his drawing in silence. 

Peter cleared his throat and kept eating. Steve was a bit infuriating, he was beginning to realize. He was completely unpredictable and so _sad_. Peter couldn’t decide whether he was supposed to give him a hug or sock him in the face. 

“I have drank too much once again! Where is the paspaspirin?” Thor stumbled into the seat next to Peter’s, nearly knocking the whole table on it’s side in the process. “Young one. I am in need of medicine.” 

“The aspirin, Mr. Thor?” Peter sprang up and fetched him a glass of water and two pills. He threw in a third just for good measure, because he didn’t know how God metabolism worked. Thor downed them all in one loud gulp. 

Steve closed his sketchbook and set it aside, the light had turned clear and blue, and him with it. No more gold to turn him soft. Captain America was back. 

Slowly, the other Avengers began to filter in. Sam and Wanda and Vision. Then Clint and Natasha. Bruce and Colonel Rhodes. Until they were all seated around the table, quietly sipping on cereal and buttering toast. 

It was their first breakfast together. Peter didn’t feel out of place, for once. He was right where he was supposed to be. 

Mr. Stark was noticeably absent. 

“You’ll need to join our next game of capture,” Clint said. “I still don’t know what you can do. I know how to beat everyone on this team now except for you.”

“Oh please, birdbrain,” Sam said through a mouthful of bread. 

Peter imagined it for a moment: him. Peter Parker. Playing capture the flag with _the Avengers_. 

“We can do it outside this time, in the lawn and forest- like it’s supposed to be done,” Nat said, then lowered her voice. “There’s a ropes course out there too but, I don’t think you’ll need that, _паук_.” 

“What does that mean?” Peter asked. Nat just smiled and shrugged. Sitting next to two of the world’s greatest spies, he felt like he had been inducted into something huge and unnamable. 

Oh. 

And this was why Mr. Stark had been so irreparably hurt. Because this was his family. Peter couldn’t imagine them leaving now, going back to an empty compound. The chaos and the drama and the buzz and the laughter was what brought it to life. 

“So let me get this straight, you’re an Avenger now?” Sam asked. 

“Oh no,” he laughed. “No no no. Not at all. I’m just your speed dial.” 

“Good, if you were an Avenger, I think Steve would kill Tony,” Sam said. There were light chuckles, but Thor seemed to find the joke particularly funny because he smashed his plate into the table and laughed for just a few seconds too long. He could have been the world’s greatest department store Santa Claus. 

Peter didn’t mention that he had actually turned Mr. Stark down, and it had nothing to do with Tony not wanting him to be an Avenger. 

“How much can you lift, Son of Stark?” Thor asked. He hadn’t really caught on to the whole Parker, not Stark thing. “Go on. I challenge you.” 

Thor thunked his elbow down on the table, arm raised. Was Thor, God of thunder, king of Asgard, challenging him to an arm wrestle? 

Someone whistled, and the others settled into silence. Waiting to see what would happen. 

“Challenge accepted, your majesty.” 

Peter gripped Thor’s rough, calloused hand tightly and they were off. The issue was, he wasn’t putting in any force. Peter was just sitting there, not breaking a sweat, not moving, while Thor grunted and turned red trying to push his arm down. Peter wouldn’t budge, and if he wanted to, he could break this whole table by slamming the god’s arm into it. 

“Are you even trying, Mr. Thor?” Peter grinned. 

“No. Just give me a moment. I was thrown off,” he panted. 

“Alrighty, Mr. Thor. Just tell me if you want to stop.” 

“No. No. I will win, youngling.”

Peter looked right at Nat, who nodded and bit her lip to keep from laughing. 

He slammed Thor’s arm into the table in one fluid move and jumped up onto his chair. 

“I declare myself the winner!” 

“Holy shit kid!” Sam whooped. Clint wolf-whistled. 

Thor, clutching his arm to his chest, slowly rose. The god was angry, lightning sparking off his shoulders, eyes the color of storm clouds. All the light in the room seemed to angle towards him just slightly, the sky outside darkened. 

Peter hopped off the chair and began to back away. 

“Uh, I’m really sorry, Mr. Thor, we can have a rematch, I’m really sorry, you don’t have to-” 

“BAHAHAHA!” Thor dropped to his knees laughing hysterically, the lights went back to normal. The god of thunder pounded his fist against the floor and wiped the tears from his eyes. “Young spider I really got you! You should see your face!” 

The rest of the Avengers were barely holding in their laughter. Peter felt his cheeks heat. 

“Sorry, Mr. Thor,” he winced. 

“Nonsense!” Thor sprang towards him and lifted him up into the air, twirling him around. The god smelled of campfires and fresh rain and smoke. Peter was smiling and dizzy, colors whirling around his head. “You are a champion!” 

Peter stumbled when he was set down, so much so that he felt a gust of Wanda’s magic boost him upright again. 

He felt so happy in that moment, he had forgotten everything that was going wrong. It was as if someone had speared him through with light. 

But that couldn’t last. 

“Peter, Boss requests your presence in the lab,” Friday said. Peter froze, the Avengers froze, everything froze. 

His last words with Mr. Stark had not been pretty ones. Something along the lines of, _I never asked for your protection_. 

“Uhm. I should go,” Peter saluted the rest of the team. “Thank you.” 

“Tell him to come up here and stop moping,” Nat called after him.

As he got into the elevator he wondered what exactly he had been thanking them for. The meal? The distraction? The company? All of it? 

Mr. Stark was alone in the lab, most of the lights were off and the blackout curtains were drawn. He was right where Peter had left him last night, bowed over a half-broken nano shield. He approached slowly, and when Mr. Stark made no move to speak, he sat in the stool across from him. 

“Mr. Stark,” he licked his lips. “I’m really sorry. Really sorry. About last night. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I _do_ need your protection it’s just-...this is about my parents. And-and it’s my fault. My responsibility, you know?” 

Mr. Stark finally met his gaze. His eyes were red, his face streaked with motor oil. He looked much older than he was.

“Peter. I do know. And...I’m sorry I snapped. I just couldn’t bear to…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. Peter understood. 

“I know, Mr. Stark.”

“And in any other world, you could be involved,” he continued. “But you’re sixteen, and Hydra wants _you_, Pete. They don’t want me or Steve or Bruce, they want you. How can I let you come? How could I possibly risk that?” 

“But this is about me!” Peter felt his throat constricting. He just couldn’t let this go, apparently. What use was Spider-Man if he had to be babysat? “I’ve been there before! I’ll recognize where it is the spider bit me. I’ve been looking for answers for so long, and I just found out who my parents really were- I _need_ to be there. You said! You said I was powerful- I can hold my own.” 

“I don’t think you understand that you could have died the other day,” Tony huffed. “Died! On my watch! I would never forgive myself.” 

“You said I was ready to be an Avenger!” 

“Well, you’re not! You’re sixteen! You’re a child!” the nano-shield went flying across the room. Tony was wild-eyed and furious. Peter shrank in on himself. “You’re not coming, kid. Final answer.” 

_You are a child._

The words reverberated around his skull. 

Peter walked out without another word and left Tony Stark to stew in his silence. 

\--------

Tony didn’t like anything about this. He was about five minutes away from Oscorp Tower, in upper Manhattan, and he wanted nothing more than to run for the hills screaming. Was this the feeling Peter called his spider-senses? The sure and steady feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong. Tony felt it deep in his gut. 

It had been so simple: he had kissed Pepper on the cheek, saluted his team and walked out the door. Natasha would arrive separately and sneak her way into the building, down to the basement laboratories on the lower floors which Peter had warned them about. 

Peter. 

God, that kid would be the death of him. How did he not understand? How did he not understand that his death was not an option? It was completely infeasible. The thought of it alone was enough to send Tony’s head spiraling into darkness. 

His nightmares of endless icy black space had shifted in favor of Peter bleeding out in his arms. Choking on his blood. Saying, _You promised to protect me, Mr. Stark_. 

Tony shuddered. 

There was only so much he could tolerate before he snapped, he was beginning to realize. He had crumbled many times before, but this? His former teammates were in his house, he was about to get married, and he had a trigger happy kid to protect from Hydra. When Peter had walked into that boardroom with Ross…

He had wanted to wrap him in his arms and throw them both on a plane, maybe kidnap Pepper along the way, and go to live in some remote cabin where they would never be bothered again. Maybe by a lake, so he would always be able to hear the water, someplace with lots of trees. Maybe he would make his own maple syrup. 

The car rolled to a stop. 

Friday alerted him through his glasses that Natasha had successfully infiltrated the building. The AI’s voice sounded strained, off. Tony chalked it up to low signal and let himself be led through the private parking garage under the building to an elevator. 

There were two men leading him, both dressed in pressed dark blue suits with earpieces and ID cards in their breast pockets. Tony had a long, complicated, unpleasant relationship with Oscorp. He had planned to never set foot in this building, but here he was, riding the lift up to Norman Osborn’s private suite. 

Norman Osborn the billionaire business shark who had all sorts of ins and outs with the higher-ups and could get away with anything. Norman Osborn who apparently spent his evenings running after Peter Parker looking like a smurf on LSD. Norman Osborn, the arch-nemesis of Stark Industries. 

In the past, they had met at functions, spewed a few obligatory condescending remarks and left it up to consumers to determine who made the better products (SI obviously). According to Pepper, Tony had been to Norman’s wife’s funeral sixteen years ago but he had been too high to remember any of it. 

The elevator halted- the lifts in SI glided, thank you very much- and the doors opened to reveal a cramped little lobby which was trying too hard to look futuristic. 

“You’re welcome to wait here until Mr. Osborn is ready for you,” Guard #1 said. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Mm. Thanks for the button pressing. You have a nice day, Sir.” 

Tony made his way out on his own and waited until the elevator had left again to start exploring. The lobby- if you could even call it a lobby- was completely bizarre. There was no receptionist and two dark sleek walls on either side which led to a huge wall of fogged glass with no visible doors on it. It was virtually a box with an elevator attached, and it smelled vaguely of Chinese takeout. 

As soon as Tony sat on the small leather couch hologram projections started to flicker to life along the walls- magazine covers of Norman and Oscorp’s various awards. This guy was more self-centered than _he_ was. 

He hadn’t received any updates on Nat which was a bit worrying, but Friday was programmed to alert him if anything went horribly wrong. He didn’t want to risk asking her anything. He was sure there were listening devices everywhere. 

His watch pinged- a message from Pepper. Before he could check it, doors seemingly appeared out of nowhere on the fogged wall and slid open to reveal a large, windowed office overlooking Manhattan. 

Norman Osborn- with that same greasy smile and primped suit- waltzed into view with a hand outstretched. 

“Tony!” He said, “Oh, long time no see! How’ve you been?” 

“Been better, been worse, you know how it is,” Tony said. If Norman wanted to play games and act like they liked each other, he would play along for now. “And what about you? How’s the son?” 

His watch buzzed again. 

“He’s great, he’s great. He’s at this really excellent school not too far from here,” he said. “I mean, he’s the future, right? No greater joy than raising the future leader of world business.” 

Tony thought of Peter and hid his wince. 

“Glad to hear it, shall we?” 

They sat at the desk, in the oddly proportioned, empty office which was sparsely decorated by modern art and the occasional picture of Harry Osborn. Nothing personal, though. It was all so poised. Poised to look just charming enough to pass as normal- even the family photos were formally shot. 

“So,” Norman leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and tossing a stress ball in between his hands. Tony was sure he had had his desk chair heightened in a ploy to seem intimidating. “What have you come to talk about, Stark?” 

His watch buzzed again. 

“Well I’m sure you’ve read the news,” he said. “These are tough times.” 

Norman had the audacity to laugh. 

“Well I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “Your Er...troubles times have been great for my business. But even so. We’re friends.” 

Were they? 

“We’re businessmen,” Tony corrected. “I appreciated your help with the Accords two years ago, Norman. It would mean a lot for you to take my side again. It would also do something to calm the public.” 

“All true,” Norman nodded. “What’s in it for me?” 

“Besides helping a friend?” 

“We’re businessmen, Stark,” Norman leaned forwards. “What’s in it for Oscorp?” 

Tony had talked this over with Pepper extensively. 

“I know you’ve been trying to appeal to the youngsters, with Harry and this whole ‘fun tech’ angle,” he said. “I’ve cracked hoverboard technology. I’m prepared to give it to you exclusively. Make it seem like it was little Harry’s idea. You could make billions.” 

His watch buzzed again. 

“I’m listening.” 

Again, it buzzed. 

“I’m very sorry, Norman, would you just let me take this call?” Tony didn’t wait for a response before he whipped out his phone and hurried to the other side of the room. “What is it Pepper, I’m in the middle of a meeting.” 

He hoped she would read the warning for what it was: Norman is in the room. 

“_Shh! He answered, shut the fuck up!_,” Pepper whisper yelled at someone. Tony tensed up. Something was very wrong. “Tony. Tony do you ever check your goddamn phone- _Steve I swear to_\- Tony. Peter’s missing.” 

Tony’s heart dropped out of his body and down deep to the earth. He staggered sideways and barely caught himself on the wall. 

“What?” he forced out. 

His watch buzzed again and he looked down to see one message from Natasha, one in black print which engraved itself in his mind and dug into every fearful place in his body: 

_Get us out of here._

Us. 

Us.

Us.

Peter. 

“Uhm, there’s been an emergency,” Tony said, disconnecting the call. He turned to face Norman, who stood by his desk, arms crossed. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“No. There’s been an emergency- I need to go-“ 

“I’ll have someone pull your car around-“ 

“No that’s really-“ 

“ATTENTION, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, ATTENTION, THERE IS AN INTRUDER, THE BUILDING IS NOW ON LOCKDOWN. PLEASE REMAIN CALM. ATTENTION, THIS IS NOT-“ 

All the light went red and metal curtains dropped down over the windows. Tony nearly jumped three feet in the air, immediately activating his nano suit on reflex. As the cold shell of iron-man slammed down around him, Tony tried to screw his head back on straight. 

1\. Peter was missing   
2\. Natasha was in danger and the intruder alert was most definitely because of her   
3\. Natasha was with someone   
4\. Tony would bet everything he owned that someone was Peter 

“Stark, my team will handle it, do not go down there, I’m warning you-“ 

He was already moving. 

“Norman, people are in danger,” he said. It was only half a lie, people were in danger, just not the Oscorp workers. 

“That suit is a war machine you’ll destroy millions of dollar in inventions and-“ 

“Lives are at risk.” 

“You’re still held accountable for the Accords! You can’t do this without-”

Iron Man was already gone, blasting through Norman’s massive windows and out into bright, sticky air of Manhattan. 

“I’m coming, Peter.”

\----------

Peter had made a lot of mistakes in his life. 

This just might be the one to get him killed. 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t been thinking- he had been. It was just, he hadn’t been thinking very carefully. His though progression kind of went- _Mr. Stark thinks I’m incompetent, I’m going to prove him wrong, I’m going to break into Oscorp and get the information to prove I’m capable_. 

The thing was, now Peter was two hours away from safety, in the middle of Manhattan, in an underground Nazi base, with only his web-shooters and a balaclava, and he was starting to think that Mr. Stark was right. 

Mr. Stark had driven away shortly after their argument- and had not said another word to him. As soon as he left, Peter had pulled on his most inconspicuous clothing, snuck out of the compound and walked as far off the premises as he could before he called an Uber to take him to the city. In the car, he had used a stolen StarkPad to hack into Friday’s internal code- something that Ned had taught him how to do- and established the ‘Left the Nest’ protocol. Friday was now unable to tell Mr. Stark, or any of the other Avengers that he had snuck past, that he had left the compound. 

If he was being honest, he was a little proud of himself. 

It had been way too easy to get into Oscorp, they really needed to up their security. Or hire Ned Leeds, who had gotten through their system like it was butter. Ned hadn’t asked any questions, just heard the urgency in his voice and done as was asked. Peter was lucky to have a friend like him. He had already made it down to the basement labs. The last time he had been down there his life had been changed forever. The eerie green glow of it, the glass rooms, the animals in cages, the fluorescent lights- it made his hair stand on end. 

It made him think of his parents. Had his father been down here? Walked these very same steps?

“Peter, turn left,” Ned said through the comm in his ear. “Your other left, dumbass.”

“Any heat signatures?”

“I’m not your suit, all I’m going off are maps, buddy. I think Black Widow will be somewhere around here if she’s looking for evidence.” 

“I don’t want to run into her.” 

“But you want to find the evidence right? I mean what if they’re doing their spider experimentation stuff right there? What if that Gwen girl is there?” 

“Ned. I just need to take some pictures, find some proof of what they’re doing here and get out. I don’t want any confrontations.” 

His spider senses flared, Peter whirled around, web-shooters outstretched. 

“маленький паук,” Natasha Romanoff said, leaning against the wall in a black catsuit. “You’re in so much trouble.”

“Peter? Peter who is that? Peter?” 

Peter clicked off his comm and came to terms with his imminent death. 

Natasha crossed her arms and gestured for him to explain himself. 

“Nat, I can explain-”

“Can you?” she blinked, green eyes dark and stormy. Although everything about her was calm, unthreatening, he could see the anger rippling just under the surface. 

“How long have you known I was here?” 

“The cameras. I was halfway shutting them down when they all went out. Explain, маленький паук.” 

“Mr. Stark wouldn’t let me come,” he said in a furious whisper. “But I have to do this. I have to. I have to be responsible for this. Lives are at risk.”

“Someone has a hero complex,” Nat grimaced. “Come. There’s nothing I can do about you now. I spotted something suspicious in the south corridor before I was interrupted.” 

“Wait you’re- you’re letting me come?” Peter stumbled, tugging on his web-shooters. He skidded on the wet floor, tripping after her. 

“You’ll receive enough punishment later,” Nat said. “Three things. Stay close to me. Do as I say, not as I do. And be smart- I don’t think it’s something you’re doing a lot of today.”

They walked close to the wall, peeking around corners before they rounded them, walking past rows of cages, birds squawking and cat pawing at metal bars. Peter met eyes with a monkey, it reached out a hand to him as he passed. How he would hate to be locked up like that. 

“This is horrible,” he said. 

“Tell me, паук,” she said softly. “What is wrong with this place? What’s off?” 

Peter looked around, taking in the test tubes and Bunsen burners and rows of computers. There was no sound but the clawing and screeching of animals. He thought of MJ, how if she were here she would get all the animals out, how she would save the day through protests and speeches and-

“Where are all the people?” 

“Mm. Bingo,” she was twirling a widow-bite around her finger. “I took out all the guards when I came in. And the cameras. But no people. It’s almost certainly a trap.” 

Peter wouldn’t deny that his heart kicked up a notch. 

“Ok. What do we do?”

Think like a hero, think like a hero, think like a hero. 

“We leave now, and don’t get any more information on where the supersoldiers are being held,” Nat said. “Or we get the information. I’m looking for maps. Data. Anything. I’ve already hacked into the upper floors- there’s no digital trail. We have to find real evidence.”

“So we stay. No question,” Peter said. “They’re old school. They probably don’t have half the tech SI does. Maybe this department is just...doing something else right now?” 

“You’re an optimist. Come, I see something.” 

Nat led them down a corridor which was darker from the rest, lights flickering. A rat ran across the shadows, like something straight out of a horror movie. His spider senses flickered dully. 

There was a door at the end of the hall. Not locked, but the guards who had been standing there were knocked unconscious. 

“Good job, Nat,” Peter said. 

But Natasha wasn’t moving. She looked at him slowly, and it was in that moment that Peter realized something was deeply wrong. His Spider Senses flared again, but not at anything in particular. It was as if there was a threat in every direction. 

“I didn’t take out those men,” Nat plunked something out on her StarkWatch. 

Suddenly they were washed in red light. 

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

His senses roared, rippling across every nerve and circuit in his body. Peter dove sideways, knocking him and Natasha to the ground and rolling away. The door exploded outwardly, debris and shrapnel and fire licking at their heels. 

Five men poured out- big men in all black with gas masks and equipment strapped to their belts. Peter jumped up into a fighting stance, throwing webs at them. Nat leaped, kicking and scratching. Only it wasn’t just five, more and more kept pouring out. Peter thrashed against the hold of one and jump-kicked another. It was no use. They just kept coming. He knocked one out and two more took their place. 

“Get out!” Natasha yelled, tasing two men at once. “Get out!” 

But Peter wouldn’t leave her here. He wouldn’t. 

An image flashed in his head as he faked out a man with a gun, of Ben yelling at him to leave. He knew how well that had gone. 

He would not abandon another person he cared for. 

“Maybe we’ll keep this one too,” the man closest to Nat was saying, he had pushed her up against a wall while she was disoriented. 

Peter dove forwards, ripping the man off of her and slamming him into the opposite wall. He didn’t stop to hear the sickening crack or see the stain of blood on wet concrete. 

“Fuck,” Nat swore. 

A fist caught Peter upside the chin and he stumbled backward, barely catching himself. Kick after kick, fist after fist, blood dribbling down his chin. At some point, his mask had been ripped off. His web-shooters crumpled on the floor like tinfoil. Floor, ceiling, floor, ceiling, floor, ceiling. Everything was spinning. The world was a kaleidoscope of green and red and black and Natasha, fighting her way up from the floor. 

“Hey! Hands off!” 

Oh, he knew that voice. 

“Tony,” he wheezed. Big Guy #1 punched him again in the gut. He coughed harshly, red spurting out. “Help.” 

Iron Man came in blazing, palms outstretched with fire, face cold and unforgiving. Mr. Stark would save him, he thought through his delirium. Mr. Stark would save him. 

It was at that moment that the man fighting him caught him in the neck with a syringe. 

Was this it? 

Was this death? 

_I’m sorry May_, he thought. _I should have listened to you._

The world became very dark after that.


End file.
